Darkest Hour
by diddly day
Summary: She's dead. Leon and his daughter have to learn to live a life without Claire. But Claire's not completely gone. Will Leon ever move on? Will Claire find the gate to heaven?
1. Goodbye

**Darkest Hour**

**by: diddly day**

**Disclaimer: Okay, nothing is mine, Resident Evil isn't mine, they all belong to Capcom. I pray that you won't sue me.**

**A/N: Since my last story is only a chapter away from ending, I thought I'd get started on a new one for ya. All idea's come from inspiration, right? I was watching a few movies, reading a few books, and playing a few video games, when this idea popped into my head. I hope you guys will like it. If you are a lover of sad things, I think you'll like this. **

**This is in no way related to "Sometimes they Come Back."**

**Chapter 1**

Her hand was freezing. So cold. She lay there, in the small room. Blood still soaked in her beautiful clothes. The periwinkle blue shirt he had bought her for her birth day was ripped open. Buttons had flown off in the attempt to stop the bleeding.

Her face displayed nothing but peace, instead of the pure agony that was once conveyed in her sharp features. The once deep, blue eyes stared at the ceiling, at one time holding life, now empty. Blood smeared on her neck from where he had held her in the last few minutes of her life.

He stood over her. She was gone. They had told her that she had slipped away a little more then half an hour ago. But he knew that she had passed away long before that. He still couldn't believe it. Why wasn't he in aguish? Why wasn't he weeping on the ground by her side? He knew. He couldn't believe it.

Dead shock.

Five years. Five years she had been by his side. Now, in the blink of an eye, he was alone. Well, not completely alone. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember what had happened in the last few minutes.

_**I I I ** _

"Mister Kennedy?"

_The doctor walked slowly down the hall. There was something in his walk that Leon didn't like. He hoped against hope that it was not bad news. Oh please, anything but bad news. Nonetheless, he had to know. _

"Is she all right?" He stood up abruptly. They had been working on her for awhile. Hell, he didn't know, it could've been ten years. The doctor shook his head.

"Your wife-" he paused.

_Leon held his breath in anticipation. Was the doctor going to tell him what he desired, or what he dreaded? Whichever it was, Leon knew that he could figure out what to do. But only if Claire was okay. The doctor took a deep breath. _

_"Mr. Kennedy, your wife was brought into the ER with a gunshot wound. It was sustainedinher stomach." _

"I already know all that," Leon sputtered out in desperation. "Any news?"

"We tried to operate, but. . ."

No. There was a but. The one word he hoped never to hear.

_"But?" his voice cracked. _

"There was internal bleeding."

The realization was now hitting Leon. This was just a dream. He'd wake up. It was just a dream. A horrible, horrible nightmare.

_"Bleeding," he repeated. He knew that too. There had been so much blood. So much. Every time he closed his eyes, he could still see that dark crimson. _

"Your wife died, at 5:43pm"

Died.

That couldn't be true, it couldn't. Some horrible trick that the doctor was playing on him. Pain shot through his brain. She was dead. Air escaped his lungs. He couldn't breath. He couldn't move. Everything went numb. He shook his head in confusion. He wasn't going to listen to this. He wasn't going to hear this man's lies.

"I'm very sorry." The doctor looked as if he were about to burst into tears himself.

"Claire?" His eyes filled with tears. "She's dead? My wife. . . Claire is dead?"

Sadly, the doctor nodded. The terrible truth was now tumbling like rain into his body. These weren't lies he was hearing. The words that were falling from the doctor's lips weren't a tale. Claire was gone. Putting forth a hand, the man awkwardly patted Leon's shoulder. However, Leon didn't notice him walk away. His legs gave out under him as he collapsed back into his chair.

_He had been sitting in that same spot no less then five minutes ago, filled with hope, now, nothing. His life was nothing. Nothing without her._

_A sob irrupted deep in his soul. Staring at his hands through his tears. She was dead. Her life had been taken from her. Stolen. Claire had been robbed. Robbed of all the things she could've done. _

_He cried for her. For all the birthdays she would miss. For all the holidays they would miss together. He cried for every joy that had failed, every hope that had fallen. For all the things that she wanted to do, but never did, and now never would._

_He loved her. He couldn't go on without her. Nurses and doctors walked by briskly, going about their business. Leon could feel their eyes on him, but only for a minute. But he didn't care, he just wanted her back. His nose ran and his throat hurt with all of his cries._

_Why had God taken her? What had she ever done wrong? They had only gone out to get some milk. If only he had waited. At that moment, it was indeed, Leon Kennedy's darkest hour._

_**I I I**_

He was standing there. Staring at her. Claire stood in the corner of that cold, dark room. Her husband gazing at her body with the most heartache that she had ever seen. His hansom face was now creased and red in pain. She could see love and pain. The mixture of emotions that burned in his face made her want to die.

But that wouldn't have done her any good anyway she reminded herself.

No.

Considering the fact that she was already dead.

The emotion's then melted away leaving Leon looking empty. More empty than when Ada disappeared after the underground lab explosion. Softy, he reached out to touch her hand. His touch. She wished she could feel it. His hot skin on hers.

She had followed him from the waiting room after he had received the news of her death. He wept in the chair like a infant, and it stung because he was so close. So close, but so far. She couldn't tell him she loved him, or that she was all right.

Now he stood over her body in the empty hospital room. On the operating table, still in her clothes that she had put on this morning. When she was putting them on, it hadn't occurred to her that it would be the last thing she would ever wear. Looking down at herself, she could see the mirror image of her clothes, only they were untouched and clean, not bloody and ripped like the ones on her dead corpse.

She couldn't feel her legs, but she began to move over to Leon, swiftly, until she was facing him on the other side of the table. Her lifeless form between them. She felt as if she were gazing at herself through a window. A window to the past. Perhaps a dream. But this wasn't a dream, and she couldn't wake up in the middle of the night, roll over in her soft, warm bed, and tell Leon how much she loved him.

He gazed at her body with such. . . she couldn't describe the look he was giving her. Eyes were the windows of the soul, and his eyes were like looking into an empty room. Almost no emotion, no sorrow, no pain. Just shock. She couldn't blame him, she was in shock herself. She had been ever since they had walked into that convenient store. It was then, that the memories began to flow.

_**I I I**_

_"Pull over there Leon," Claire pointed over in the passenger seat. _

_The rain was coming down hard, andthey could hear the heavy thuds of water droplets on the hood of their car. He looked at her swiftly._

_"Do they have our kind of gas?" He was already pulling into the 7-11. Claire squinted through the sheets of rain._

_"Yeah. See, am I good or what?" _

_She could see Leon's smile in the dark car._

_"You do have the sight of an eagle." He pulled up next to the gas pump. Turning the engine off, Claire could suddenly feel how cold it was. With one last glance before he got out, he threw her a warm smile._

_"Wait here," his voice was soft, with a little bit of humor in it. She smiled and watched him as he got out._

_Her head turned to look at the little store. It stood, illuminating it the fast rain. The lights glowed and reflected in the wet pavement in the quiet parking lot. She racked her brain, trying to think about anything that she needed. After all, they were at the store and she didn't want to get home, remember, and then go all the way back._

_Just then her eyes met a young man coming out of the store, drinking out of a milk carton. That was it. They needed milk. Leon went through that stuff like she went through bubble gum. Pulling the door open she got out. A gust of wind hit her, chilling her to her soul.  
_

_"What are you doing?" asked Leon, his hand on the gas pump._

_"We need milk. I'm going in to get some." _

_Leon nodded._

_"Oh okay. Are you sure? I can get it."_

_"No, it's fine. I'll pay for the gas while I'm at it," she said as she shrugged._

_He flashed a charming grin at her. She would've swooned it they hadn't been standing out in the pouring rain._

_"You're the best," he smiled ashe slid his wallet over the hood of the car and she caught it._

_"Be right back."_

_Pulling the hood up over her head, she jogged across the lot, giving the double doors a good hard tug, she entered the store. She was quite surprised at how full the store was. She hadn't been able to tell with the shelves blocking all of them. Pulling her hood of her sweatshirt down, she spied a man over reading a magazine staring at her. _

_She knew that if Leon had been in there with her, he would have yelled at him saying something like 'get an eye full?' or ' get a good look know because women like this only come in your dreams.'_

_He continued to stare at her, and when she made it plainly cleared that she could see him, he looked away quickly. She blushed herself and walked away. She didn't like strange men gazing at her. Not like that. It made her feel as if she were a bug under a magnafying glass. Briskly she walked to the end of the isle, looking past the beer, soda pop until she spotted the milk. _

_Bending down the pick it up, she hadn't thought anything when the doors opened up, but what she heard next made her blood turn to ice._

_A gunshot._

_"Everyone get down on the ground!"a gruff voice shouted. _

_There was a woman next to her who shrieked and Claire could feel her knees hit the floor in obedience. The woman next to her was now crying uncontrollably. She could hear hard boots walking up behind her. _

_"Shut up bitch!"_

_A bullet whizzed by her head, crashing into the freezer full of milk. Claire closed her eyes to shield her eyes from the exploding glass the flew by her face. The man walked away._

_"Fill the bag!" he yelled._

_Two shots fired. Claire looked around quickly to see the two holes that he had fired into the roof. She prayed that Leon would hear the shots. Her eyes found their car, only to see Leon in the front seat, he glanced at his watch and looked out into the rain._

_"Come on, hurry up!" the man with the gun said. _

_She looked at him to see he was not very tall, less then six-foot. A black ski-mask covered his face and a big brown coat made his probably scrawny image rather big._

_The cashier was shaking. She could tell that this had never happened to him before, he was a young kid, no more then twenty. Sweat was running down his face. Claire saw him blink, trying to keep the sweat from his eyes. Fumbling like crazy, the cashier opened the bag. The weeping of the woman next to her was now earthshattering._

_"Shut up!" the man shouted._

_He walked over to the broken woman, and with the end of his gun and struck her across the face. Blood spurted from the woman's mouth and Claire threw her head sideways to keep from it splattering on her. The man turned around, she could feel his eyes on her._

_"Aren't you a pretty thing?" his rough voice held the slightest hint of ice._

_"Go to hell," her voice was surprisingly strong. His breath stopped._

_"What did you say-"_

_The door opened once more. Bells that were attached to the door let of a jangling noise that sent an alarm off in the back of her mind. Before the man could turn around a booming voice filled the room._

_"Freeze! This is the police! Put the gun down!" It was Leon's voice. _

_No, he must have come in to see what was taking her so long. A hand grabbed her by her hood of her sweatshirt, locking her so she was in front of her captor but facing Leon who looked scared shitless._

_"Don't move! Or I'll kill her!" She could feel at gun in the side of her temple. Leon's voice didn't waver._

_"Put the gun down or I'll shoot!" he stepped closer to her. Leon's shiny, black gun that he carried everywhere was pointer at the mysterious robber._

_"You so much as twitch, and you'll see her blood spilled on your clothes!" The gun dug deeper into her head._

_"Leon," she didn't know what she was going to say. The man looked at her and then Leon._

_"You know each other?" his harsh breath was on her ear._

_"You so much as touch her and I'll kill you," Leon spat._

_The kid didn't say anything for a moment. "I don't want to kill anyone," he muttered quickly. "Put the gun down, and she'll live."  
_

_Leon's face trembled._

"_You can't hurt her," he whispered. The robber was breathing faster now. "Please don't cause her pain," Leon pleaded softly. _

_The man laughed bitterly._

"_You don't know anything about pain," he snarled. "You know her?" Leon's lips pressed together and all the features in his face stiffened._

"_I've never seen her before," he lied. Claire felt the tip of the gun digging further into her temple._

"_Please don't lie to me," the stranger muttered madly. "I hate liars." _

_Claire couldn't stop her shaking. Her legs were growing numb, and she felt that her bladder would let go if she had to spend one more minute with this insane man. _

_"She knows you name," the robber declaired._

_There was silence._

"_Tell me!" he shouted._

"_She's a friend of mine," Leon babbled, his brave mask falling off, only to reveal his true horrified face. "You don't want to hurt anyone, right?"_

"_No," her captor's voice was quivering. "But I need to do this. And she's not your friend is she? You two are lovers."_

_Leon's expression was more than telling. And the masked man knew who he was holding in his arms._

_"Please, let her go. We can just talk about this," Leon was on the verge of begging. "You can get out of this. Without anyone getting killed. Without her getting killed." _

_His tone must have softened the robbers heart, for Claire could feel his grip loosening. _

"Okay, but put the gun down first," the stanger ordered

_Leon's eyes moved from him to her, he seemed to be trying to read her thoughts. Sending her subliminal messages._

_"NOW!" Leon's head snapped up and looked at the man. Very slowly, he began to gently put the gun on the ground. _

"Okay, okay, just don't hurt her. Please," his voce was calmer, but still shook. Within the instant that Leon slid the gun away from him, Claire could feel him shove her away. She hit the ground hard, knocking all the wind out of her.

"Claire, honey, are you okay?" She stared up at him, but couldn't respond, all she could do was nod her head.

"Don't just stand there, fill the bag!" the masked scoundrel shouted again.

"Look," Leon began rambling, "this doesn't have to end this way. All you have to do is just walk out that door, and we'll pretend that this never happened."

That was a lie. As soon as he made it about a block, the police would pick him up faster then he could say the word "robbery." The man looked scared. His face was hidden by the mask, but his eyes gleamed with unmistakable fear.

"Really?" His gun trembled slightly. Leon started toward him slowly.

"Just give me the gun, no one has to know," Leon whispered

Claire wince on her knees and to her feet. Maybe she could kick him, or grab his gun. But that would only get Leon killed. If she missed, or didn't hurt him, she could say good by to both of their lives.

He looked like he was going to give into Leon's words. His hand reached forward slightly but carefully. She felt an undoubtable wave of triumph. They would get out of here. She slowly stood next to Leon, her stomach doing flip-flops.

_Suddenly, they heard the sound of cop cars echoed off in the distance. The man's hand stopped, and Leon frowned, now that his cover was blown. The man's cold eyes shot up and looked at Leon with utter betrayal. _

"You called the cops?" he hushed. "You son of a bitch!"

He raised his gun to Leon. And from there, everything happened in slow motion.

She couldn't lose him. That was the bottom line. She saw Leon's brow crease in panic and his blue eye's go wide. And before her brain could detect what she was doing, she was standing in the way of her husband and the bullet. She hadn't even heard the gun go off. Losing all feeling in her lower body, her legs gave, and she crashed onto the ground.

"Claire?" Leon's voice echoed off somewhere. Far. Distant. As if he were miles away. He sounded petrified.

Placing a hand over her stomach, she felt something moist. Touching it, she looked down, only to find her hand smeared with dark, almost black, crimson. Her eyes traveled up to the man who had pulled the trigger. He looked shocked, the gun suddenly dropped from his hand and he knelt down beside her, just staring with an unspeakable expression of shame.

"Claire!"

Strong arms grabbed her, and she fell into them. Pulling her so that she was on her back facing the ceiling. She could make out the two bullet holes that he had made earlier. Leon's eyes meet her, everyone disappeared. His pale face desperate.

"Leon," it was hard to talk.

All she could do was speak a whisper. She could feel him pulling her sweatshirt over her head rapidly, but with great care. Next she could feel his hands on her shirt, ripping off the buttons to her blouse as he had done so many times in the past, under different circumstances.

"Hold on Claire! Please, please," he begged.

Pulling her shirt wide open, his hands found her wound. Putting pressure to stop the bleeding, he began to scream for help. Her body was now starting to become numb. She could no longer feel the pressure on her stomach.

The double door flung open again. This time police stormed in telling everyone to put their hands in the air. Two of the officers hauled the intruder off his feet and out the door, while a few other ushered everyone out. But all Claire could look at was Leon's face. His eyes were glued to her stomach.

"Don't you leave me, Claire. Don't you dare." Her eyes trailed down to his hands, which were now soaked in blood up to his elbows.

"I need an E.M.T. in here now!" One of the police officers shouted once he saw the couple on the floor with Leon rocking her back and forth.

The coppery taste of blood was in her throat. She said: "Leon." She wanted to tell him she loved him. His eyes found hers, and his bloody hands stroked her neck and face.

She didn't have to say anything. He knew.

"Shhh. It's okay. Claire, you're going to be okay. You have to hang on, for me, for Grace, for us."

She tried to move her lips, but no avail. It was getting hard to breathe, and she suddenly felt very tired.

"No! Claire, honey. Don't fall asleep. Stay with me! I love you. Please!" he was beginning to cry. His voice breaking like glass.

Her eyelids were drooping. Everything around her was becoming hazy. The throbbing in her throat was becoming less, and less. A burning pain was ignited in her belly, and like a wildfire, it spread. Her eyes snapped open as she tried to make the pain go away. Her teeth clamped down, biting her tongue, blood trickled from the side of her mouth.

_She was on fire. It was difficult to breathe. Her burning skin brining tears to her eyes. The dark blood dibbled over her chin. Leon was sobbing harder now. She inhaled deeply. Trying to take in all the air she could. Choking on her swollen, cut tongue, she coughed and sputtered blood in fine bits. The droplets hit Leon's smooth face which was now enlarge with tears. Feeling her heartbeat slow in her ears, she tried again to breathe, but couldn't. Everything was getting darker. She could barely make out his bright blue eyes. _

_Lava was flowing through her veins. It hurt so bad. A thousand knives were plunging into her stomach. . . .  
_

_. . . .And then it stopped._

_The pain was gone. Before she realized what was going on, she was standing on the ground, like she had never been shot at all. Her clothes were intact, and there was no more burning or bleeding._

_Then she heard it._

_Leon's wails. Spinning around, she saw him on the ground, his arm holding an incredibly white figure. Her breath caught, and she would've began to shake if she could've felt her nerves. Bending over, she looked into the face of the body that Leon was holding on to so desperately. _

_Staring into the cold eyes of herself._

_Stumbling backwards, she backed into one of the shelves without knocking it over. A man ran past her wearing a windbreaker that had MEDIC written across it._

_"Sir, let me see her," the man told Leon. _

_ButLeon ignored himand forcefully rocked her dead body. _

_"Sir,you're going to have tomove if you want me to help her," his hands shot out and grabbed Leon. It took two of them to pry him away from her corpse._

_It was then, that Claire knew her life was literally over._

_**I I I**_

"Oh Claire," he whispered.

His hands traced her pale face. He almost pulled back at the coldness of her, but couldn't. Tears were starting to cloud his vision again, and she was becoming nothing more then big blur. Bending down, as if being pulled by some magnetic force, he placed a soft kiss on her pink lips.

He couldn't stay in there anymore. He had to get out. Away from the death, away from her. Running out, he opened the door and dashed into the hallway of the hospital. Not knowing where he was going to run, he soon found himself in front of the men's restroom.

Walking inside, he made sure that no one was in there. The coolness of the water did very little to clear his head as he splashed it on his face. The water on his face soon became mixed with tears as he started to realize how his life was going to change. He was on the verge of telling himself that he and Claire had decided to just go home and get gas later, that they were on their way to a completely different future.

He looked at his sad image in the bathroom mirror. He hated what he saw. He was a man who's wife gave her life to save him. He was just as much to blame as the man who pulled the trigger. If he had not just gone in, if he had just called the cops, if only they had just gone home, everything would've been alright.

Pulling his fist back, it came crashing into the mirror, shattering it to pieces. He didn't feel anything. His nerves had died right along with his wife. But sooner or later he had to go back out there, put on a brave face, and take on the world. When all he really wanted to do was curl up in ball and die.

He was surprised when he found Chris waiting for him in the lobby. His face was streaked with tears, and he realized that the doctor must've told him. Chris looked up with his red, puffy eyes and pulled Leon into a tight, desperate embrace.

"She's gone!" Chris bawled into Leon's shoulder. Claire was all Chris had left. The only other living Redfield member was now dead and lying in some cold room in a hospital they had never been in

For some reason, Chris's rush of emotions washed through him. The cool, composed look he was trying to parade slipped and he lost it again. Weeping loudly for his loss. For both their loss.

"Five years," Leon cried. "Five years she was my wife."

And the two men just cried. Then Leon pulled away from Chris. Hiccuping and whipping his eyes with his sleeve.

"Where's Grace? I need to tell her."

Chris nodded and pointed to the soft chairs in the waiting room. There sat the four-year-old girl. Slowly, as it felt like an eternity, Leon walked toward the small child. She looked up and saw him coming toward her. Her eyes held understanding. He sat beside her.

"She's asleep, isn't she?" Grace said. Leon did nothing but nod.

"Yeah, Mommy's sleeping."

Grace peered down at her hands again.

"And she's not going to wake up, is she?" Leon shook his head. Grace frowned.

"No. She's gone, honey," Leon whispered.Grace's face broke out in sorrow and Leon enveloped her in his arms.

"I loved her Dad," she sobbed into his neck.

"I did too," he choked out.

To two sat there. Leon rocked his daughter back and forth, the same way he had with her Mother before her death. It was so thick, it felt as if Claire as in that room, watching the heartbreaking scene.

**_To be continued. . ._**

**A/N:Man, this story really_is _depressing. I didn't realize it at the time. When I wrote it, death seemed like such a far away thing.Maybe it's just because I've gotten older or something. I've realized that I'm mortaland that I will die someday.That's too freaky to think about right now.**

**I've had so many idea's flying through my head. It's hard to pick one. Yes, I know it sounds a lot like "GHOST," but it has a twist that'll come in upcoming chapters( if you want them) So, please, read and review if you enjoyed this. I always thank my reviewers. **


	2. Shadows of the past

**Darkest Hour**

**By diddly day**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**A/N: Hey thanks for all of the reviews! I love those as you can tell. They make my bloody day. I hope that you all like this chapter, Yes, I know the other one was sad. Twists, twists, you all know how I love twists. PS: I don't write dirty stuff so don't give your hopes up.**

**Chapter Two**

He lay in bed. Alone. For the first time in five years, he was sleeping alone. It had been a week since her death. A week since that horrible memory now branded in his brain. Why did it feel like decades ago? The funeral was today. His final goodbye. It was hard enough for him. Chris hadn't taken it well either. Grace stayed quite, she was too young to really comprehend what had happened to her mother. She would grow up and have nothing but a dim memory of her, only to be left with the memory of a miserable, broken father.

No matter how Grace took life without Claire, Leon wouldn't be able to take his life without Claire in happiness. He had often feared for many things, but a life without his wife was almost more then he could bare. The last week had been like a dream. He half expected to wake up and find Claire lying next to him. Her soft hair flowing freely on her pillow, with the moonlight bouncing off her milky skin.

Sadly no. He had been waking up alone. And then would come the migraines. He hadn't had one that bad since he had moved out of his own when he was nineteen. Like a spider spinning its web, it would creep along the back of his neck and then, slowly sink it's teeth in. He could see colors out of the corner of his eye. Red and yellow flashing like stop lights. The left side, sometimes right side, would pound so deep he thought he could feel the earth sake.

Since that fateful day, Leon dreaded to sleep. Rubbing a hand over the stubble on his face, he recalled his dreams. So bright, the gunshot and then her body falling lifelessly to the ground. Blood would be everywhere, and then soon envelope the tint of the dream. He would wake up in a cold sweat and roll over to grab Claire, only to realizing that it wasn't a dream. The pain creeping up along his head would take over and he would fall backwards and start to swear.

That never did anything. Why would it?

Rolling over, as he had done so many times during the last few nights, he glided onto Claire's side of the bed. Oh, he could still smell her. It was as if she had gotten up to use the bathroom and would be back in less than a few minutes. Vanilla and strawberries. That smell, it would never leave him. The subtle scents would haunt him forever. Almost worse, bring back the memories that were already starting to flash through his mind.

_**I I I** _

"_Can't sleep?" _

_Claire sat on the edge of the bed staring out the window at the tree that was softy hitting it. She didn't respond at first, not until Leon gently swept his hand across her white T-shirt._

"_No."_

_A simple reply. He liked her bluntness. It made it easy for him to know what she wanted. He slid over closer to her side of the bed, so close he could've wrapped his arms around her and pulled her down if he had wanted to._

"_Why not? I'd of thought I wore you out earlier." He leaned in and kissed her arm. She  
giggled._

"_You know me, I'm not a heavy sleeper."_

"_Mmm." The hum of lips against her skin. He softly brushed his mouth up her arm. "I don't snore too loud I hope."_

"_Don't be ridiculous."_

_She turned her face over the look at him. Shifting himself, he put his head down next to her body. They stared at each other for a while. Then she put her hand on his face and stroked his cheek. Her skin burned as her hands moved down to his shoulder._

"_You sure you're okay?" he questioned._

_She seemed distant tonight. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but something was bothering her. She stared at her hand on his bicep. Although no sound was uttered, her mouth twitched ever so slightly. He began to feel her warm, smooth hand stroke his arm._

_He closed his eyes and plunged his face deeper into the sheets. She wasn't going to answer him. That was fine. She was his wife, not a child. He wasn't going to order her around like some controlling adult. Her hand traveled up to the base of his neck, lightly tickling him. Once more, she roamed her hands around his shoulders and then back to his neck again._

_He smiled into the sheets. She was trying to seduce him. That was fine too. But he didn't want her using sex so she could distract him from what was bothering her. Nonetheless, he soon felt her shift in the bed.Her hands disappeared from his neck, but was soon replaced by her sizzling lips. All of his worryies dissolved from his mind as her mouth worked his way up to his ear. She flicked his earlobe with her tongue. He let out a groaned that he couldn't suppress._

_She was going to get her way. It was hopeless for him to even try and resist her. But something didn't seem right. He wasn't going to enjoy the pleaser of Claire's "company" if he didn't know what was wrong.Leon had to act quick, for she was making her way down to his throat again.  
_

_Opening his eyes slowly, he could see her shoulder. Her hair tickling his chin._

"_Claire, wait," he hushed. She didn't respond, but thrust her face deeper into his neck. Leon forwned as he knew she was avoiding his question._

_Her lips never stopped working though, she was determined not to let ask what was on his mind. He had to give her props for her persistence._

"_Claire, honey, wait." He said it a little bit louder._

_She payed no heed. Desperately, her lips journeyed up to his mouth. He had to stop her. His hands shot out and grabbed her, but not roughly, by the arms. _

_"Please, just stop, for a moment."_

_She stopped, and her body went limp as if he were a ventriloquist who was done with his doll. Ready to put it away in a nice, shiny box. He felt her face pull away from his throat, while she placed her hands on each side of him on the bed, and pushed herself off him. Spreading her self out beside him, she closed her eyes. Slowly bring her mouth to his ear, she whispered._

"_Please, not tonight Leon." Her voice quivered slightly. "Lets not talk. Just for tonight." Now he was seriously worried._

"_What's wrong Claire?" She sighed. He could feel the hot gust of breath against the left side of his face._

"_Please? I can't talk. I just want to be with you."_

_He rolled over on his side to face her. Their bodies close. He liked the heat they were creating. Her eyes were dark. Claire's creamy skin shimmering in the soft light. Eyes trying to read his thoughts. Should he drop it or press it? Gazing at his wife again, he rested his hand on her hip. Her delicate figers slid over his._

_Propping himself up on his pillow, he leaned forward beginning tokiss her neck. He heard her suck in a breath, and felt her throat expand under his lips. He tenderly kissed her collar-bone. She began to pull on his hair, and dig her fingernails into his shoulders. She didn't want him to be tender.Claire wanted to be swept away in passion. Whatever she was feeling a moment ago, she wanted to forget it and just be with him._

_He seized her lips with his in an instant, beginning to give her fast, fiery kisses. She responded by opening her mouth to accept his, and pushed him roughly back to his spot on the bed. Leon could already tell this was going to be intense. Usually, Claire liked to be gentle. There was a connection between the two. Something that was so deep, to act fervent sometimes felt violating to their romantic love. Not all the time. Every once in a while, they would be swept away by their unspeakable passion. But this wasn't passion, this was harsh. _

_And this was certainly not like her._

_It didn't feel right. Tonight, ever since he woke up, it didn't feel right. He knew something was wrong as soon as he opened his eyes. But what could he do? Not much, that was for damn sure. Not because she was kissing him, but he just didn't know how to get her to open up._

_They had sure come a long way. They had problems with sex in the beginning. On their wedding night he had been scared, but she had been terrified. Deathly terrified. Apparently her babysitter's teenaged son had assaulted her when she was six. A phobia had begun, making her terribly afraid of sex. "Just call me the ice-queen!" She had wept during that first miserable time._

_Oddly enough, he understood. He was scared for his own reasons. Being brought up in a religious family, he had always been taught that sex was a bad thing. A very filthy, bad thing. He couldn't so much as have a dirty thought when he was a kid without feeling guilty. Unlike his older brother Adam, who was perfect in his parents eyes. Or at least they thought he was. _

_Leon remembered seeing his brother sneak all sorts of neighborhood girls in his bedroom in the dark of the night. And that hurt him. It hurt him because he, himself was seen as the screw up of the family. The dumb one, the one who couldn't write a story, or sing a song to save his life. He wasn't an athlete when he was a kid, and he sure as hell wasn't an Eienstein. _

_But he was obedient, which was usually over looked, making him feel like dog-shit._

_But not Adam. Adam who could do no wrong in the light of his family and friends. But was known as the highschool player, while Leon was known as the highschool idiot. His own fear of intimacy was pounded in his brain by the rambling of his parents, his inability to talk to girls, and his brother's horniness._

_That was why he was comfortable with Claire. She understood, and she felt the same way. They had used marriage as an excuse to not have sex. Put it off until the honeymoon that was the idea. But not even on their wedding night did he think they were ready._

_He hadn't wanted to fall in love with her, you could almost say he avoided falling in love with her. Raccoon was all they really had in common at first. Even so, getting to know her was like a trip to the Amazon. Full of excitement, danger, and fun. But being with her, that was like going on a trip to the Moon. He loved her for that._

_It was that love that allowed them to work through their problems. And one night, it had been wonderful. It was love._

_But it was not that love and passion that was in her kisses now._

_It was getting hard to breathe. His heart was beating faster, faster, in his chest. Soon, she pushed her face away from him looked down at him. He stared up at her. She was gorgeous. More ravishing then she had ever looked before. Her dark hair fell into her eyes. Framing her cheeks and casting shadows across her face that he rarely ever saw because she always wore it up. Leon also noticed that her mouth was swollen. He had been kissing those lips, making them swell. Something in her eyes was wild. Passionate. He needed to see that look again._

_Placing a hand up, he touched her face. Running his thumb across her upper cheek, he passed it down her tender lips._

"_You're so beautiful," he breathed. The wild look disappeared, making her eyelids droop easily. And he felt her lips tremble under his thumb._

"_You mean that?" she whispered. The question shocked him. He nodded. "You love me?"_

"_Of course I do." That wasn't enough. She had to hear him say it. "I love you."_

"_No matter what?" She leaned her cheek into his hand that was caressing her lovely face._

"_Claire, you know how I feel." _

_She bobbed her head up and down. The sheets sagged down so he could see her PJ bottoms, very much like the one's he wore now. That was weird, they hadn't meant to do that._

"_I went to the Doctor's today." She blurted out, cutting through his wandering mind._

_He froze, after snapping his head up to look at her. Fire sprang into his neck with his swift movements. Nonetheless, Leon didn't care._

"_Wh-why? Why, why, why?" he stammered. Terror gripped him with a thousand icy fingers. Why did she go to the doctors? What was wrong with her?_

_"I-" she couldn't finish. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. His terror broke, and he bolted up on his elbows, almost knocking her off the bed._

_"Are you okay? Is it serious? You're not sick are you? Cancer? It's cancer, isn't it?" _

_He could feel his throat close up. When she recovered from his out burst, she rubbed her temples with her hands, trying to gather her thoughts._

"_Leon, it's nothing like that," she tried to reassure him. _

_That was bullshit. Why would she go to the Doctor? Why had sheacted upset if it wasn't something serious? His panic was increasing, close to exploding._

"_What? Are you hurt? Claire please, tell me. I'll love you no matter what."_

_She covered her face with her hands. At first he thought it was out of frustration; but then he heard her take in a sharp breath, followed by a short, light, quite sob. Softly, he pulled her hands away from her face. She ran her own across her cheeks, brushing away soft tears. _

_Taking in a deep shaky breath, she looked at him._

_"Please tell me," he pleaded. She looked straight ahead, at the wall._

_"Maybe he was wrong, maybe it's not what we think," she started to babble._

_Her eyes didn't meet his. She began to shake her head from side to side desperately. As if she were trying to remember something important._

"_What who thinks?"_

"_I mean, we could get a second opinion, right? Nothing is one-hundred and ten percent right?"  
_

_Her voice was starting to break,like it wasmade of glass. Cracking all the way up her throat._

"_One-hundred and ten percent?" He gripped her shoulders, and then moved them back to her  
cheeks. Hold her head in both of his hands, he gazed at her. Fear was now suffocating him. It was hard to breathe._

"_Claire!" he raised his voice slightly to get her attention. "What did he say?"_

_She stared at him for a moment. Blinked. And then wet her lips with her tongue._

"_Leon, we can't have kids." A tear ran down her face as the words left her mouth and echoed in Leon's ears._

"_K-kids?" _

_They had almost been married a year. They had also talked about having childrensoon. But what was the hurry? He knew that Claire had gone off the pill, but it hadn't been that long, had it? Why the rush? Slow and steady wins the race right?_

_She nodded, her eyes burning into him. Trying to figure out what he was thinking._

"_Leon, I'm so sorr––"_

"_What do you mean? Who told you that?" Claire pulled her head back a bit at his question._

"_Doctor McCarthy." he gaped at him, like he had asked a stupid question._

_"Not everything's for sure Claire." he muttered softly._

"_You don't think I know that?" she snapped and Leon jerked a bit at her outburst. "But what if this is for sure? What if we may never have a baby? You'll never be a father, and I'll never be a mother!" _

_She burst into tears. _

_Leon, sat there stunned at her sudden fury. She put her hands over her face again, trying to hide herself from him. Staring at his sobbing wife, he really didn't know what to do. He had just gotten horrible news and it was beginning to sink in. What must she be going through? _

_At that last thought, Leon reached out and wrapped his arms around her stomach._

"_Shhh," he cooed. She enfolded her arms around him and cried into his chest. "Shhh. Claire, honey, we don't know for sure. Like you said, we can get a second opinion. First thing tomorrow, we'll go down to the hospital and get a new, better damn doctor." Her crying ceased._

_"Really?" Her voice was small, and she pulled her face to meet his._

"_Of course." He tried to smile at her. But failed. It must've been good enough for her because she managed to smile back. "Besides, if worse comes to worse, we can adopt. See? Either way we'll be a mother and father.""_

"_I guess you're right." She laid her head on his chest, and he stroked her hair. "I love you."_

_Rubbing the small of her back he replied: "I love you too," and then added, "everything will turn out okay Claire. You'll see."_

_Her head lifted and she moved in to kiss his cheek. It lingered there for a moment, and when she stared to pull back, Leon swooped in and gave her a soft, peck on the lips, like a boy stealing his first kiss from his date. It too, lingered there. Claire's face centimeters from his face, staring at him with her dark eyes._

_Her lips rested on his again with a more devilish kiss with a tad bit of tongue. His hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer. She rested her hands on his shoulders and deepened the kiss. The devilish kiss was now becoming diabolic, but gentle, unlike her earlier, hot, passionate kisses. He rolled her over and kissed her profoundly._

"_Leon, lets not talk. Just for tonight."_

"_Okay." he agreed._

"_Make love to me tonight. Will you do that?" Her eyes grew wide in the dark, and he nodded. So without a word, they became shadows in the dark._

"_Oh, Claire." The last thing he uttered. _

_Nine months later, Grace was born._

_**I I I**_

His head was pounding. Where the hell did he put his painkillers? The headache woke him up from his blissful memory, lodged in his mind as he drifted off into a light slumber. That last memory burning into his brain. The realization that she was still gone made him want to throw up.

His bedroom door creaked open. The sound of shuffling feet filled the room. For a split second, Leon allowed himself to believe that it maybe was Claire coming back from the bathroom.

"Dad?"a small voice said. It sounded slightly muffled.

"Grace? What are you still doing up?"

His little girl stood by his door, her hand still on the nob, and her teddy-bear "Teddy" in the crook of her other arm, or what Leon had called "The Tedster." That had always made Grace laugh, as did Claire.

"I don't feel very good."

He couldn't blame her. She had just seen her mother disappear six feet under. He didn't feel verywell himself.

"What's wrong? Sore throat? Runny nose?" He sat up in bed.

"My tummy hurts," her voice sounded rough, like she had been coughing. He patted the bed.

"Come here honey." She shuffled to the bed. For a moment he was afraid she might trip on her nightgown. But she made it without problem to the bed.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

Leon smiled. Looking at her closely to see her nose was running like a faucet.

"Of course." He pulled a tissue from the box and held to her nose. "Blow," she did. Some got on  
her chin. "Better?"

"Yeth," spit flew from her mouth. He brushed her chin with the Kleenex. Pulling out the wastebasket, Leon sat it next to his bed on Grace's side. She looked at him, not understanding what he was doing.

"In case you need to throw up, and can't make it to the bathroom," he felt her face with the back of his hand. She wasn't too warm, but he made a mental note to check on her throughout the night.

"Thanks Dad," she was only four, and yet she never called him "daddy". He would never admit it, but he secretly wished she would call him that once in a while. She had, sometimes, called Claire "mommy."

"Are you okay Grace?" he asked the question, not just about her being sick, but about why her Mom was gone.

He had tried to explain it to her in the hospital that day. But every time he tried, he would start to cry again. Eventually, Jill and Rebecca had to step in. Chris was on the verge on having a nervous breakdown himself.

"I'll feel better in the morning," she looked exhausted. He felt it best not to talk about it tonight.

"Okay. Good night Grace. Love you."

She closed her eyes and rested back onto the pillow.

"G'night Dad, love you too."

He leaned forward and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"You need anything––" But she was already drifting off. To a place were there was no pain. And possibly she could dream about her mother.

He rested back and stared at her. She was going to look so beautiful when she grew up. All the good looks she had inherited were, of course, from Claire. Grace was going to have to beat the boys off with a stick. Her hair was already starting to go from blond to brown. It would probably be dark like Claire's. She had her eyes too. But her mouth. Leon had given her that. She had his mouth down to dimples on her cheeks. His little angle. He wouldn't let her down, like he had Claire. That was for damn sure.

"Dad?" He was surprised that she hadn't crashed yet. "D'you s'ink Mom's 'appy?" Her voice slurred with her weariness. Eyes still closed, waiting for his reply.

"Yes, I think Mom's very happy. Where ever she is."

With that last thought. Leon and Grace drifted off into a deep slumber, hoping that Claire was someplace better.

_**I I I**_

Hell on Earth. That's what she would've called it. Wasn't she supposed to have a big ray of light, with angles waving her in like the heavy set lifeguard she had when she went to girls camp when she was fourteen? Nope, none of that. And Claire Redfield- Kennedy was pissed.

Not only did she have to see her family suffering to no end. She also had to endure all of the other dead people who she ran into.

_I_ _see crazy people._

No, they weren't crazy. They were more shadows of the past rather than spirits. They stuck to doing their own habits that they had done in their life. And a lot of the people she ran into were angry, miserable people with ill tempers and foul language.

Where had all of the nice little old grandmothers who had died in their beds gone to? Or children who had been hit by a car, or the highschool girl whose boyfriend smashed into another driver coming home from the latest party? Perhaps the wife who had been shot and murdered in the convince store, maybe?

In Heaven! That's where they were. All except the latter, who was stuck here drowning in her own misery. Once in while she ran into a few good people. That gave her some hope that maybe she hadn't done something completely screwed up during the course of her life. If they were here and good people, then perhaps at sometime she would get to go up to the great motorcycling bike in the sky.

At her funeral - the last place she wanted to be- she had said goodbye to her body. Seeing it one last time before it was lowered into the ground. Everyone was crying. For her? That was a little hard to believe, and yet here they all were. Dabbing the corners of their eyes and holding hands trying not to. . .to what? Burst into tears? Burst into fits of giggles? She didn't know. She saw all of her friends there though. That did not make it better.

Leon with his head held high, and while Grace stared at the casket, her chin quivering. She was only four, but they had been buddies. Mother and daughter, best friends for life. Now she wasn't going to be there for her first day of school, first kiss, wedding day, or first child. Oh yeah, she would be there in spirit. But she couldn't give her advice, or comfort her when she was in pain. It just wasn't enough.

Chris didn't say a word the whole time. But he was strong, and he was the last person who Claire was worried about. He'd make it, after all, he had Jill to look after, as well as his own life. He would be fine. Claire had to believe that.

That was when she saw Jack. She didn't recognize him at first. He had looked the same as he had in highschool. His letterman's jacket wrapped around his scrawny body. She remembered the night he had died. It was right after their first date. Highschool drama, hooboy. But she never forgot him, even though she didn't really know him, you don't forget your first's date's death, especially when it happens right after the date.

He stood there leaning up against one of he head stones. His hands were held out before his face, to fingers up as if he were smoking a pretend cigarette. He had smoked in highschool. Old habits die hard, even when you die along with them. He waved at her and she found herself wondering over to him.

"So you finally see me, huh? Well, I guess it's not good news if you can." He puffed at his invisible cigarette and smiled at her.

"How long has it been?" she was staring at him in awe. Like seeing a ghost, pun intended.

"About eight years," he blew out the imaginary smoke as he replied.

"Wow," he nodded and laughed at her lack of words.

"So, how'd it happen?" he asked.

"Shot, in the stomach, close range."

He made a sharp sound with his teeth.

"Man! Sounds worse then the way I went. Didn't feel a thing!" he laughed again and took another drag out of his "cigarette."

"I'm surprised those cigarettes didn't kill you. I saw you smoking them all the time out at the bu sstop." She never liked cigs, as they called them, the smell alone made her head hurt.

"Oh, but they did!" he smiled again.

"I thought you smashed into that Honda?" she asked confused.

"Yeah, but on my way back from dropping you off, I lit up in the car, dropped the damn thing in my lap and skidded into that Honda at close to sixty. The cig burnt up in the fire. Nice way to go, no?So you see, they really did kill me. But not in the way everyone thought."

She giggled. It was nice. The feeling was still there. Happy that she still could laugh. That it was one of the few things that hadn't changed. It started in your chest and then burst out your lips. Even dead people could laugh.

"This your funeral?" He looked at all the people huddled around the grave stone about thirty feet away.

"Yep. What did you mean by finally saw me?" she asked at his earlier statement. He bowed his head and looked at her with his green eyes.

"Oh, well . . . you see. I've always loved you Claire," she just stared at him in shock. "I know we only went on one date, but I fell in love with you and since then have been following you around. I was there to see so many things. You showering, your wedding night."

She blushed furiously and was about ready to either run or scream.

"You what? You did?" He burst out laughing and slapped his knee.

"Nah! But ah, you should've seen the look on your face!" Jack threw his head back and howled out another cackle.

"That's not funny." But she was beginning to laugh too.

"I knew yout were dead because I've seen ya walking around in this town from time to time. I say tomyself, 'Hey! There's that Redfield girl I dated on the night I bit the dust!' and you never look at me. But this time you did. That's how I knew."

"How did you know I was married?" she asked, still a little shaken from his tiny prank.

"I've seen you with him," he pointed to Leon who was staring at the hole in the ground were her body still lay. "You looked really happy. Plus you two hand rings on your fingers and was all kissin' and stuff." He flicked his air cigarette on the ground.

"That's the nice thing about being dead. You can't get in trouble for littering." she snorted at his comment.

"Can I ask you something?" she said in a small voice. He looked at her.

"Shoot."

She smiled sardonically at his pun of how she died. "How come you're not in Heaven?"

He stared at her through his dark bangs which fell over his eyes.

"You mean if there is one?" A sinking feeling found its way into her stomach as soon as the words left his mouth. He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Well, we've have to go some place. I've seen only a few normal people here on Earth. The rest are all crazy nuts who yell and scream at the living as if they were living themselves."

"Those guys? They're supposed to be in Hell, but they didn't go through the gate, so that's why they're stuck here. They'll have to go sometime, but for now, they're trying to do the things they did in their normal lives."

"But if there is Hell, then there has to be a Heaven." He shrugged again. "What about this Gate you spoke of?"

"All I know if that every once in a while, when someone dies- trust me, I've seen enough people who are killed to last me an eternity. Anyway, when someone dies, sometimes there's a big red light and they get sucked in. Who knows if it's the gate for Good or Evil? I've never gotten the chance to find out."

"Big red light? Sure it's not white?"

"I'll guess you'll have to do a little digging and see," he paused. "If you find a way to get to Heaven, drop me a line. I'd like to see something different for once. You know, find out the mysteries of the universe. Do a little time traveling."

"You can walk though stuff, isn't that cool?" she asked. He chuckled softly.

"Trust me, that wears thin. You'll get sick and tired of buses rolling right through you almost every day. Hey, you and I should haunt a house. I'm thinking about doing that." Claire shook her head.

"No, thanks for the offer."

"Any time, see ya around Claire. And remember, if you get to Heaven, call me." She waved.

"Don't worry. You'll hear about it," and with that, Jack Logan, her first date, and his last, disappeared through the old church.

That had all happened this morning. Leon had been the last to leave her grave. He just stared atit. Reading her name over and over gain.

_Claire Kennedy. Loving wife, mother, sister and friend. Passed through bitter waters and into the sweet._

The rest her birth and death date, which, she was sure Leon read a million times over. He had gone home, fixed Grace dinner, not eating any of it himself. And had sat in a chair for the rest of the day staring into a blank TV set. Grace curled up on the couch asleep. She had sneezed and coughed through out the day, and Claire suspected that she had a cold.

Then he had gone to bed, and she had just sat and watched him. He was beautiful. More beautiful then she could ever remember he was before. A few times he tossed and turned in his sleep. And once he had even groaned her name.

A few hours later, Grace came in saying that she felt sick and if she could sleep in his bed. He let her. And before she went to sleep, she asked if Leon thought that she was happy. He had told her yes.

But if only they knew.

_Passed through bitter waters and into the sweet_

Would there ever be sweet waters for her again?

**To be continued . . .**

**A/N: Okay, I know I'm supposed to have Sometimes they Come Back up, but I'm almost done,and I've hit MAJOR WRITERS BLOCK. So if you guys any suggestions, email me orsomething, because I'm almost done and yet I can't make a good ending. I just need a few morepages and then Poof! I'm done. Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter. I'm never writingtwo stories at once again, takes me forever to update. I'll update Sometimes they Come Backnext, no posting this story until I post the last chapter of the SCB.**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed!**

**agent182: Hey! Thank you so much for your nice review. I love hearing positive feedback.I didn't mean to make you cry! Oh wait, I did. haha! But I'm so happy you liked it. You rock!**

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**me: Well, I'm you read this story even though you don't like these kind of story's. Just so youknow, I didn't mean to make you cry. That was such a sweet review. Thank you a million tons!**

**Tifa Redfield: Ah! I know it was sad. What can I say? I'm a drama queen. haha! Get it?Anyway. I love your reviews. You such an awesome person, and a great writer and I need my"The Boy is Mine" fixes. I'm going through withdrawals. Any who. I'm thinkin' about going onstrike, I won't update mine until you update yours. Should I do that? Maybe not. But I'mwilling to stoop that low if you don't hurry up and UPDATE! Thank you so much for all of yoursupport. You ROCK!**

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**Dragon: Thank you. You're really cool. I'm glad you liked it. Thanks a bunch!**

**Frenchy: blushes uh. . wow! What a nice thing to say. I bet you're thinking "what did I sayagain? Let me check the reviews." JK. I need to read some of your stuff. I just haven't beensigned in all that much, so I usually don't read stuff if I'm not signed in. But thank you for such anice complement. I really appreciate it. Thank you so much!**

**Lin: Well thank you. It makes me happy when people tell me I'm descriptive. I find that a hugecomplement Thank you a million times.**

**dale: Hey, you have an awesome story going. Sorry I don't review all the time. I don't really geton all that much anymore. But you always make me smile with your reviews. I had a big grin onmy face left my computer. Thank you again.**

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**isflamma: Wow, thank you for your nice review. I know I love GHOST too. I was watching itand went hmm. I could do something with this. but thanks again! I hope you enjoyed this chapteras well.**


	3. Shane

_**Darkest Hour**_

_**By diddly day**_

_**Chapter three**_

_**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. I wish it were, but sadly no.**_

_**A/N: Okay, sorry I been taking so long, my grandfather passed away. I had to leave. I hope to never leave you hanging again. **_

_"Don't look so worried Leon. Everything is going to be fine," said his Best Man, Carlos as they stood at the head of the altar. Leon let out a deep exhale.  
_

_"But what if something is wrong with her dress? What if she changes her mind?" Leon started to step off the altar. He felt Rebecca grab hold of his collar and pull him back.  
_

_"You know it is bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding," __Leon felt his tie choke his adams apple as she yanked him off the steps. "Besides, she's just doing her makeup. She's not even late yet!" Rebecca stressed.  
_

_"Yeah, no kidding," interrupted Carlos. "I would've thought Claire would be having those worried doubts about you."  
_

_It was true, that is what everyone would have thought. But Leon wasn't nervous, or doubtful. Quite the contrary. He was excited. He had played this exact moment in his mind ever since he was fifteen. He always wondered what kind of woman he would marry. He never once thought he would be lucky enough to find himself a woman like Claire Redfield. And here he was, one of best moments of his life.  
_

_Just then he saw Claire's Maid of Honor, Jill, walking briskly toward the altar. Chris was following her closely behind. The diamond engagement ring that Chris had bought Jill glinted and caught Leon's eye. She stepped up and leaning forward to Rebecca and Carlos, and whispering in a low voice so that Leon would have a hard time hearing.  
_

_"We have a slight problem," Jill whispered urgently. Rebecca gasped and Chris shot her an annoyed stare. Leon suddenly felt as if his insides had come alive.  
_

_"What?" Rebecca hushed, so that Leon couldn't hear them, but of course, failed.  
_

_"What!" Leon shouted louder, causing everyone's attention to turn back to him. Barry and his wife exchanged glances from their seats.  
_

_"Yeah, a problem," Jill exclaimed absentmindedly. Leon felt his face flush with suspense.  
_

_"What do you mean by 'a problem?'" Carlos interrupted. _

_Jill shot him a gape of utter bewilderment. She then, glared at Leon, as if expecting him to understand what she meant. However, he must've been exhibiting a look of anxiety very plainly. Just as soon as her eyes met his, her eyes widened with understanding.  
_

_"Oh, no, Leon!" she almost shouted. "Nothing like that! She has no sign of cold feet." Quickly, Jill leaned forward and patted his hand. All of the air escaped his lunges with relief. Chris sported a huge grin.  
_

_"What is it then?" asked Rebecca. She, nevertheless, still looked deathly worried.  
_

_Jill leaned in again, but this time she was smiling with the absurdity of Leon's earlier suspicions. She spoke clearly with great calm.  
_

_"We can't find Claire's veil." _

_Rebecca clapped one hand over her mouth, horrified. Carlos and Chris did the same, but theirs was an act tokeep from laughing.  
_

_"That's it!" Carlos almost bellowed. "You almost had the groom shit his pants!"  
_

_"I'm sorry Leon," Jill apologized again. She turned back to Carlos. "You don't understand! She's freaking out!"  
_

_"Why? I don't care if she has a veil," Leon declaired. Rebecca and Jill eyed Leon.  
_

_"You don't understand," Rebecca stretched. "Leon, it may not matter to you, but it matters to her."  
_

_"No it doesn't," he said confidently. Jill crossed her arms waiting for him to explain why. "It matters to her because she thinks it matters to me. And I don't care what she looks like."  
_

_"Well, that's all very sweet, but we still don't have a veil and Claire isn't coming out until we have one." Jill put her hands over her face and sighed.  
_

_"Or unless someone can convince her otherwise," Chris spoke up. "But she won't listen to me." _

_He looked at Rebecca and Jill for help.  
_

_"Oh no," Jill threw her hands in the air. "I'm not going back there. Trying to calm her down his just as impossible as trying to calm down Chris." _

_Everyone found their gaze over to Rebecca.  
_

_"Oh, all right!" Rebbcca grunted angerliy as she began to step off the altar. Leon ceased her arm and pulled her back.  
_

_"I'll go. She'll listen to me."  
_

_"No, Leon, you're the one person who can't see her," Jill stepped in front of him. Leon raised his eyebrows and stared at her straight in the eye.  
_

_"Claire is going to see me. She and I have been through hell and back. We survived a town full of the living dead. Stopped Umbrella, still made time for Sherry, and I survived him as well," he pointed toward Chris. "I think Claire and I have had all the bad luck we could get. And I'm sure as hell am not going to let some silly superstition wreck my wedding day."  
_

_"Hey!" Chris shouted defensively. "Why'd you point at me?"  
_

_Jill rolled her eyes.  
_

_"I pray that she doesn't kill you."_

_With that, Jill stepped aside and tossed her head to the door at the end of the hall.  
_

_Leon took his cue and walked down the hall, and out of sight to all of the people who were staring at him. He found Sherry sitting in a soft chair outside Claire's dressing room. She pointed at it, a look of nervousness was plastered on her youthful face.  
_

_"She's looking everywhere for her veil. It looks as if the room blew up," she muttered in an awestruck voice. Leon nodded at Sherry, and without saying a word knocked on his soon-to-be-bride's door.  
_

_"I can't find it Jill!" came Claire's exasperated voice as she swung open the door. _

_He only got a look of her brown hair before the door came flying shut again, surprising him so that he flew back, hitting the wall opposite of Claire's door.  
_

_"Leon are you okay? I heard you fall!" Claire cried through the door.  
_

_"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little startled," gasped Leon as he struggled to get off the floor. He shot another peek at Sherry, who was stuffing her fist into her mouth to keep from giggling.  
_

_"You're not supposed to see me yet," said a once more fretted Claire. Leon placed each hand on the side of her doorframe._

_"Honey, I don't care if you have a veil," he softened his voice to try and persuade her to come out.  
_

_"You don't?"  
_

_"No, please just open the door." _

_She did, but just a crack. He couldn't see her, but could tell she was hiding behind it.  
_

_"I- I just wanted this day to be perfect. With everything that has gone wrong in our lives, I wanted this one day to go smoothly, is that asking for too much?" _

_Maybe it was because she was closer to him now, but hearing her voice not being muffled by a door calmed him a great deal.  
_

_"No, it's not. I can't think of a bride who didn't want her wedding day to be flawless. But that's not what our wedding was supposed to be about. It's supposed to be about us. Us getting married, husband and wife," when he finished, he closed his eyes praying for her to come out. _

_She stayed silent for a while, he head Sherry shift in her seat, he'd completely forgot she was there.  
_

_"I just wish I had my damn veil," she muttered. She sounded resentful. Leon could sympathies. If this day was important to her, it was important to him.  
_

_He looked around the hallway, not quite sure what he was looking for. His eyes caught a vase full of thornless wild roses. What good were those? _

_He was about to turn back to the door when an idea sparked his mind, causing him to do a double take at the roses. Snatching one, he placed the stem between his thumb and middle finger. Breaking it so only a little bit of the stem was hanging off the rose. He walked back to the door and placed his hand through the small crack that she held open for him.  
_

_"Would this work?" he questioned. Leon wiggled the flower a bit in his hand to get her attention.  
_

_"Am I missing something?" _

_He could feel her stare on his hand.  
_

_"Well, I don't know, you could pin it on your dress, or stick it in your hair or something." He placed his head on the door frame, trying to get a glimpse of her.  
_

_Suddenly, he felt her soft hand on his, pulling the rose carefully away from his fist. Just her touch alone caused him to smile. It was like electricity. Even when she bumped against him accidently, or patted his shoulder, it was like little jolts. But when she held his hand, or on one occasion, placed her elegant fingers on his cheek to have him look at her, those weren't jolts, they were lighting bolts. Causing a tingle to run down his spine in waves.  
_

_When she kissed him, that was another story. Though she had never kissed him passionately up to that point, her lips were like fire and very addicting. Claire could be classified as a bashful kisser because she always pulled away. He had a feeling that whatever she was saving, she was saving it for the wedding night, and that excited him and terrified him at the same time.  
_

_"Oh, Leon, you're a genius!" she exclaimed gleefully. He suddenly felt her hand grab his and stroke it softy, then, quickly letting it go. He grinned again. Lightning bolts.  
_

_"Okay," he sighed happily. "Come out so we can get married."  
_

_"Send Jill and Chris back," she sounded so joyful. "I'll be out soon." _

_He smiled inwardly and triumphantly that he was able to get Claire out like he said he could. That was another thing he loved about her. He loved maintaining her.  
_

_Just as soon as she shut the door, Leon looked at Sherry once more and threw her a smirk. Sherry rolled her eyes, doing an uncanny impression of Jill. Standing up, she smoothed out her dress.  
_

_"Yes, yes, we all know how good you are with her, now lets get this over with."  
_

_From that moment on, everything seemed to go much more graceful. All of his worries and doubts vanished as they all got ready for Claire. He'd never forget that moment.  
_

_"Here's your last chance to get out of it," Carlos murmured in his ear as the music started.  
_

_Just then he saw Claire appear in the isle. His breath stopped. Her white dress shimmered and fit elegantly around her body. Her hair was tied up so exquisitely that her face seemed to glow. His eyes trailed her body until he caught the rose he had given her earlier. She had put it behind her ear, much as Leon did with his pencils. But the most beautiful thing of all, was her smile.  
_

_"Shut up Carlos, I'm getting married." _

_His eyes were glued to Claire, all the while beaming. He was quite sure he was grinning like an idiot. She was smiling at him back, but she didn't look like an idiot, she looked like a goddess.  
_

_Chris was giving her away. He was smiling as well, but his wasn't as big as Claire's. No, his faint smile held the slightest shade of sadness. Claire was one of the very few things he had from his past. And now he was giving her up. Of course he was happy for her, but Leon could tell it was hard to see his baby sister so grown up.  
_

_They stepped up to the altar. Chris's smile became bigger when he took Claire's hand one last time. He gave her a tiny huge and whispered in her ear.  
_

_"You look beautiful." When he pulled back, Claire mouthed a small 'thanks Chris.' Chris then turned to stand by Leon, he then whispered. "Hurt her and I'll kill you." _

_Leon smiled at him and turned his attention back to his bride.  
_

_Even though it had been a small ceremony, with only close friends and relatives, Leon didn't think there could have been a better wedding. The vows were said and no one opposed to them being wed. At last, they were pronounced husband and wife. He took her hands and kissed her. He relished that kiss, standing in front of everyone. They rarely kissed in public.  
_

_He expected her to pull away, as she was always the one to end the kiss. But this time she didn't. He was surprised when she deepened the kiss, only little bit. They couldn't make out in the church. At last he could kiss her as long as he wanted. He was sure everyone was staring at them, so he finally pulled away. Meeting Claire's wonderful frosty eyes, he could hear everyone applauding the new couple. It was now the beginning of his future. His family. _

_Their life._

**_I I I_**

She watched as Leon stared down at their wedding album. His eyes looked lost. She could tell he was dwelling on her again. He got that look on his face when he thought about her. It was now almost a month. It was strange how so much could happen in one mouth. Grace's little cold had almost cost him her life. Her fever was so high two nights later that Leon was driven into a panic. Brining her into the ER, the doctors looked shocked to see him again in such a short amount of time. They had to stick her in a tub full of freezing cold water to bring her temperature down.

Leon stayed in the waiting room. Sitting as far away to the seat that he had sat in when he got the news that Claire was dead. Claire sat down next to him. She wanted to touch him to let him know she was there. He looked terrified. She could tell he was expecting the worst. Just then he spoke.

"Don't take her away Claire." He whispered. He berried his face in his hands. "Grace is all I have left. Please don't let her die." he prayed.

Claire stared at him, shocked. She'd forgot that he didn't know what little power she had. She was dead, yes, but she was still on earth. If so, she had less power than everyone else. She wanted to shout at him, tell him everything was going to be okay. But was it? She couldn't see into the future. She was on the same time as Leon was, and it was getting harder and harder to see him in his broken state.

Once she died, Claire didn't think she would need to pray. But now, she closed her eyes, and prayed to whoever was above her, if it was a man or an entity, that her little girl would live, for Leon's sake. She was only a baby, she had her whole life ahead of her and she didn't wish to see her daughter so soon.

The next morning, Grace's fever broke, and she was fit to come home. Claire knew that it wasn't an act of luck. She thanked to whoever answered her prayer. Who, or, whatever it was, she knew it was alive. Grace was fine and was back to normal within a few days.

That was almost a week ago. Just after Leon had put Grace to bed, he fetched out their wedding album. Flipping through the pages, he stared at each one with an expression of aching. He loved her, he missed her, and he was remembering her, which was making it very rough for him to let her go. It didn't make it any easier on her as well.

He sat the album down. Staring at it as if he wanted to pick it up again, then suddenly sliding it away like poison. She was leaning, or pretending to lean against the wall. Watching him carefully. Unexpectedly, he brought his head up and stared at the wall.

"I dropped Grace off at Day Care today," his lonely voice echoed in the empty room. "Her teacher asked me how you were." He frowned and stared down at his lap. Claire peered at him asher heart began to break.

"I couldn't answer. I just went out to the car and almost had a nervous break down."

He closed his eyes, doing so caused tears to be pushed down his cheeks.

"I miss you."

His hand quickly shot out and wiped his face.

"I miss you too," she said aloud. Of course he couldn't hear her. She uttered it anyway. It was the truth, she missed him, she missed him and he was right here.

"It's like you're still here," he continued. "Almost as if you never left. I can't get you out of my head," his voice was becoming desperate. "I can feel you."

She may have been only a spirit; but whatever she was, she was material, and could feel her throat tighten, she swallowed it away. Getting closer to him, she knelt down on the floor next to him. She watched as his mouth twitch with efforts not to let out a sob.

"I always thought I could raise Grace because at least you'd be here to help." Tears were now prickling down his face. "I can't do this on my own. I need you."

He began to weep. He had cried the day she died. But since then, he'd never given himself a chance to mourn for her. Everything that had been built up in the past month began to leak out. Similar to a dam that has been building up water over time, but he couldn't hold it in anymore. The dam broke.

She couldn't help him. She couldn't comfort him. That was her job as a wife, to soothe her husband. His body shook as the wails erupted from his chest. Claire reached out to touch him, her hand passed through his body. Realizing, with great alarm, that she could feel his emotions.

She could feel how he was imagining her in every way. Every memory of her passed through his mind with sweetness, then turning bitter as he realized that she was gone. How terrified he was, he was afraid that he wasn't going to raise Grace well. On of the most horrible feelings she could sense was the guilt. He blamed himself for her death. Leon had so many scenarios run across his mind, things he could have done to save her.

Another thought ran over his mind:

_I'm so glad Grace isn't awake to see me like this._

He started to choke on his sobs. His face was becoming red, swollen with tears. Claire gazed on. Her heart burned of him. All of his emotion's combined with her emotions, before she could stop it, she touched something within him. She hadn't meant to, it was if all of her feelings burst out. And Leon felt it.

"Claire?" his cries drained.

Opening his eyes, Claire could see tears clinging to his bloodshot eyes like pearls. He knew she was there. She felt his confidence raging off him. He sensed her strongly. All of his sentiments ran through her. She was just about to answer him back, when a knock on the door made her jump away. Leon, looking at first disappointed, then looking disgraced with himself, stood up and walked to the door.

Claire sat back on the floor. She had come so close to . . . to what? Talking to him? She heard the door open.

"Hi Chris," Leon mumbled. "Hey Jill. C'mon in."

Claire observed the couple as they walked in.

"We just came over to . . . " Chris started.

"To _what?"_ Leon snapped.

"To see how you are doing," Jill finished soothingly. She and Chris exchanged nervous glances. Leon suddenly found a great interest in his shoes.

"I'm fine," his eyes didn't meet theirs.

"Don't lie," grumbled Chris softly. "I miss her like hell."

"Me too," Jill stated. Leon nodded.

"Okay, I'm doing awful," Leon admitted. "But I can't change anything. She's dead."

"Can we sit down?" asked Chris. Leon pointed toward the couch. He and Jill took a seat. "We just came to check up on you."

Claire couldn't take it in there anymore. She got up and without looking back, vanished through the wall.

It was almost a month, and yet she was still suck here. It was some kind of limbo. Everything seemed to be upside down and she had run up and down town five or six times trying to find someone with an answer. Was she doing something wrong? What had she did wrong when she was alive. Every dead person she ran into was some psycho. All expect Jack, and a few people, but she could count those sane ghosts on one hand.

She jogged out of the apartment building and into the dark street. She needed to take another walk, just to think and get away from that depressing scene that she had once called home. Walking around the block, her eyes found a middle aged married couple fighting on the corner.

"Why do you always contradict me?" the woman shouted. Her husband, or boyfriend looked taken back.

"Don't use words if you don't know what they mean, dear," he spat back.

Maybe it was good she was dead. Claire couldn't imagine her and Leon turning into that couple. A little boy no more then six was watching the pair fight. His expression perceived him to be bored. He was probably the couple's son, or nephew. The boy closed his eyes and looked up at the dark sky.

"Sometimes I don't know why I married you!" the woman shouted. She and her husband started to walk away, still bickering. Surprisingly enough, the boy didn't follow. Instead his eyes were following Claire.

Claire looked around behind her, to see who he was staring at. Just then she heard him laugh.

"No, Claire, I'm looking at you," she heard a young, innocent voice say. Claire looked back at him. The boy was off the bench he was sitting on. He walked over to her.

"Who are you? Please don't tell me you have some kind of sixth sense," Claire gasped, she was in shock.

"Me? No, no. I'm dead too," he laughed again. Claire eyed him suspiciously.

"How do you know my name?"

The boy pretended to look hurt.

"You don't remember me?" he smiled again. "Well, of course you wouldn't. You and I never met in this life."

Claire was confused, did she have past lives?"

"No, no past lives Claire," he said, reading her mind. "I mean in the pre-earth life. Before we had bodies. You and I were best friends."

"Best friends?" she looked at him in awe.

"Yep. You, me, Grace, and Leon were joined at the hip. As was Chris as well."

"What's your name?" she looked at him. He stared off in space of a moment and then looked at her.

"Well, I don't really have an earth name. But you can call me Shane."

Claire smiled.

"My husband and I loved that name."

"Yeah, I know," this time he didn't smile, he grinned. Claire suddenly had a feeling that this was not a little boy. He looked like one, but he acted like a middle-aged man.

"Why are you here?" she asked bluntly. Shane's grin only got wider.

"You called me," he answered simply. "You've been seeking an answer to why you're still here? You've wanted one for a while haven't you? And this time you really, deeply wanted a response. That's why I'm here."

Nervousness washed through her. Here was he chance to get an answer, which one should she ask first?

"Let me make this easier for you," Shane chuckled as he interrupted her thoughts. "Life is a test."

"That's it?" Claire almost shouted. "That's the big message you had to deliver to me?"

He held up a hand to silence her.

"This life, is a test. A test to see how well we could do if we didn't know of our pre-earth life. A test of God."

Claire felt her heart flutter. In these past few months, she seriously began to doubt if there was a heaven, or a God.

"So you're saying this life is a test to see how well we could do without a remembrance of God?" Shane's face lit up.

"Exactly! You pick up faster than I thought you would."

"I don't understand."

Shane's smile disappeared.

"Do you remember when you were eleven?" he asked. Claire nodded. "Remember when you almost got hit by that truck?" again, Claire nodded.

It still scared her to think about how close she came to death. It wasn't some pickup, it was a semi, company 'Yellow' truck. Something inside her told her not to look up or stop on her bike. She remembered hearing the horn so close to her ear that it made her eardrums ring. She thought she was dead. Before she knew it, the truck had passed, and she had made it to the other side of the road in safety. Even though she was only eleven, she knew that it wasn't just luck that saved her life, it was something higher than her.

If it had been luck, she would've been dead.

"If it had been any other kid, I bet they would have died," Shane broke through her thoughts.

"What makes me so special?" Shane shrugged at her question.

"Nothing, it's just that your test wasn't up. You still had things to do." Shane's grin returned. "By things I don't mean by winning the Noble Peace Prize, or becoming the President of the United States."

"Then what?" Claire found herself pacing back and forth in front of the small boy. Shane's eyes rested back on the sky.

"I mean something small, like getting married, or becoming a mother." Claire stopped pacing and looked at him. He brought his eyes back to her. "Grace is very special, and has work to do here. Your job was bringing her into the world."

"So, I take it there is a heaven then?" Shane nodded. "How do I get there?" He shrugged.

"You need to find out for yourself. But I'll tell you this, your test is over. Pencils down, turn your paper in and enjoy the weekend."

"Is that it?" She gazed at him, pleading him to tell her more. He started to walk away.

"That's it," she watched as he headed for the end of the street.

"Did you live on Earth then?" she shouted after him. He stopped and turned around.

"Let me put it this way," he paused, looked over at her apartment building, and then back at her, "my test was over before it ever started. I guess I had nothing to prove. I got a freebie."

Leaving Claire dumfounded, he turned to leave. Claire turned around again and started to walk back the opposite way down the street.

"Oh! Wait. I did forget something," he started.Claire whirled around, hoping against hope that he would give her the answer she desired.

"Yes?" she gasped,trying not to sound too desperate.

"I think you should return upstairs. You're about to find out something huge."

With that, Shane turned on his heel and left. Looking like a little boy, who lost him mommy. Claire's mouth hanging open with desire to know what he was talking about. She watched him until he vanished.

Without hesitation, Claire whisked around and up the stares to her gloomy apartment, that used to be filled with so much life.

**_I I I_**

Chris couldn't believe his ears. Leon sat the phone down from the call he had just received. His already puffy eyes welling up with fresh, new tears. It could not be true. It just couldn't. There had to be some mistake.

"She was pregnant?" Chris repeated. Leon nodded, putting the phone down with a _click_. Jill's hand went over her mouth.

"Three weeks. That is what her autopsy results revealed," Leon covered his face with his hands. "She probably didn't even know."

Chris could tell he was starting to cry.

"That's what they called to tell you?" Jill asked, her eyes filling with her own tears.

"But- but why did you order an autopsy? You already knew what she died of!" Chris had to remember to lower his voice, so not you wake up Grace.

Leon brought his hands down from his face, glistening tears handing on his lashes. Chris felt sudden pity. This guy had been through so much already.

"I don't know," Leon admitted. "I can't explain it, but I just had a feeling that I ought to order one."

"How come they didn't tell you sooner?" Jill sat down next to Leon and rubbed his shoulder.

"I guess they thought it was too much information in such a short amount of time, and didn't want me to flip out."

Chris had an abrupt feeling of sorrow. But it wasn't coming from any of the members in that living room. He felt as if there was a fourth person with them. He felt it so strongly that he began to get light headed. A cold prickly feeling washed through his body. Regaining himself, Chris's eyes wondered over to his brother-in-law, who was staring off into space.

"She was pregnant," Leon whispered to himself. "She was pregnant and she died for me!" Putting his hands over his face once more. Leon slowly started to break apart. Soon, a little delirious chuckle mixed its way into his sobs.

"We would've had another addition to the family, another Kennedy," his chuckle soon turned into a horrible cackle. "What irony, huh?"

His laugh started to come out in little bursts. Leon's mouth turned down once more, revealing a mournful scowl. With his laughing fit ending, it was soon replaced again with cries. Chris understood. This was too much. Too much to deal with. Too much to think about. He had a sudden fear that if Leon thought about it too much, he would go mad.

"Another Kennedy!" Leon howled, his hands muffling his sobs. "A little brother or sister for Grace."

Jill and Chris waited until his cries subsided. Their hearts broke with every word Leon spoke. When he and composed himself, he wiped his eyes.

"If we had another girl, we would've named her Emma," Leon grunted, trying to clear his throat, which had grown horse with his wails.

"And if it had been a boy?" Jill asked, trying to keep the conversation going anywhere. To keep Leon talking.

Leon looked at her, and then at Chris. Pushing his fist under his noise, he licked his dry, cracked lips.

"Well," he started. "Claire and I would've named him Shane."

That grievous feeling returned to Chris once more. Someone else was in that room. It was so strong that it almost made his heart stop.

_**To Be Continued. . .**_

_**A/N: That was just a small twist, I'm saving the big twist for later. I hope you all got who Shane was, ( as if I didn't make it plainly clear). I really hoped you guys liked this chapter. I know what I'm gonna do for SCB. All I have to do it typ it up. Sorry to keep you waiting for so long, I was just bursting with idea's and had to write this chapter. I know it's a lot like GHOST, but is kinda supposed to be. After all, that is where I got my inspiration.**_

_**I hope you all liked!**_

Darkchild2010 : Hey, I'm glad you liked! You keep up the great writing as well. Peace out!

Black Phoenix KaT : Thank you! I never thought this fic would Rock in the eyes of a reviewer. You are so kind. I hope this chapter gave you some hope on what the after world is like. I just hope it's a happy place. Thank you!

Santiago : I love that song! With or without you by U2 is number one on my love song CD. I knew you had good taste! But you are so nice to me, telling me you liked this story as much as you did, really made my day. It always does, I love hearing from you. You're just so awesome! Thank you so much!

tre0220 : Awe, you're so sweet. I know, I know, I've been bad at updating. But I always love your reviews. They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. You just plane rock and I love you tons!

Angel Kitty : I really didn't mean to make you cry, that isn't what I wanted to do, honestly! But thank you for such a wonderful review. I hope that whatever you are feeling about this world, that it will get better. This world is a living hell, but not all the time. Thank you so much!

Tifa Redfield : What can I say from the author that rocks the house? Your last chapter was worth all the wait in the world and I keep coming back hoping that by some luck you updated. I completely understand how busy a person can get, but I'm so honored that you found time to at least review my story. You're so awesome and I hope you post soon. I'm addicted to your writing. I'll always be on the lookout,. Thank you again for all of your support.

Dale : Another awesome writer that is just the bomb. I'm really sorry I didn't review your last chapter, I just got back from camp, and decided to post up this chapter with the thank you's. But I will as soon and I get up tomorrow (it's exactly 1:08 am here). But I love all of your reviews, and even more your writing. You make me want more, and I'm always on the lookout for updates. Hell yeah! Thanks a bunch!

agent182 : What can I say? You're just the coolest! You are so nice and are writing an awesome story. I feel so honored that you like mine as well. Also thank you for helping me cure my writer block. I'm writer's block free and will be writing my fingers off thanks to you. Thank you so much!

isflamma : I know, I'm horrible on the updates. I didn't used to be this bad. I used to get them up in like four or five days! Just goes to show what life can do to you. But I just love your reviews and how you keep egging me on. It makes me feel special laughs I know, I'm weird. Thank you again.

tek : Well, it maybe sad. . .but. . .I can't think of anything to say. Thank you for giving my fic a chance. I really appreciate it. I hope you don't think this is the main twist. It's just a little one to hold you over. Aren't I evil? Thank's a bunch!

Frenchy : Hehe, what did you think was going to happen? I hope you liked it. I kinda went on and on with this chapter. Also, thank you for liking that fact that I don't write dirty stuff. I never liked that. I would blush forever if I even wrote a tasteful love scene. I just can't do it! But thank you for the nice review.

Shin : Do you try to be awesome? Or is that just the way you are? Anyway, thank you so much, you have such nice things to say and I love to read them.

DreamThief : blushes well, I don't know if I deserved that. You are very kind. I just love it when people write such wonderful things. And I'm sorry, I didn't get that. I guess I don't get that kudos. Hahaha. Thank's again.

Dragon43 : Thank you! I'm glad you liked the style. It is a lot like Ghost, but oh well, that is where I got the idea. I thank you a million time for an awesome review.

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	4. Perfect

Darkest Hour  
  


Disclaimer: Not mine.  
  


Chapter Four  
  
  
  


Someone was knocking at the door. Leon was jolted out of his dream and back to grim reality. Once again, he had fallen asleep on the couch. Grace lay next to him, curled, taking up the next two spots on the couch. He watched her sleeping peacefully. He loved to watch her sleep. The T.V. blared the old version of "The Fly." Images of Patricia Owens flared the screen with her loud shrieks as he saw what her husband had become. Clicking the T.V. off, the room fell deathly quite, with the exception of the horrid banging on his apartment door. He crossed the room and pulled it open carefully.  
  


"Mom? Dad?" Leon stated in shock. He hadn't seen them since the day he had moved out after high school.  
  


"Hello son." his father spoke seriously, as always.   
  


His mother nodded at him. She looked older. Her once beautiful copper hair now hung in wisps of grey around her lining face. His father didn't look much better. He had gained weight. Not much, but enough to tell. Another new thing was fresh on his fathers face. Leon didn't remember him sporting eyeglasses. His goatee looked much less unkept, and bags around his eyes showed much stress.  
  


"What are you doing here?" Leon asked. It was still hard to look at them.  
  


"We thought we'd stop by and say hello." His mother's small voice came out in a squeak. Leon pulled the door open and let them in. He knew what this was about.  
  


"So," Leon began. "I guess you heard?" His father nodded.  
  


"That I why we're here. We were wondering if you could give us the money now." The words that left his fathers mouth took time to register in his brain.  
  


"Money?" he asked.  
  


"Yes, didn't Adam call you?" Leon looked at his mother. Adam. His brother hadn't called him in years.  
  


"I haven't spoken to Adam since high school." Leon looked at both of his parents. "What is this all about? What money?"  
  


"Your brothers in trouble with the law." his mother began. "And he needs money for bail. Adam told us he called you and you had agreed to lend us the money to get him out." her faded blue eyes got round.  
  


Leon ran a hand over his tired eyes. A small laughed left his throat.  
  


"What?" his father's sharp voice cut in. Leon laughed a little bit harder. This was so typical of them.  
  


"And I thought," he was cut off by another chuckle. "I really thought this was about me. I should've known you came here to see me about Adam." He put the hand that was covering his eyes and covered his mouth with the back of his fist to suppress another cackle.  
  


"Dad?" a small voice came from the couch. "Who's at the door?" Oh no, his laughing must've woken Grace up. He turned over to her and picked her up.   
  


"Come on, honey. I'll put you to bed." Leon soothed in her ear. He threw another look over at his parents who stared back in shock.  
  


Walking into her small room, he softly put her in her bed. Turning on her Goofy night light, he drew the blankets to her chin. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. She was going to be just like her mother. The proudness was almost overwhelming. It was his only goal in life to take care of Grace. It was his duty as a father, as well as a husband. A duty to honor his wife wishes.  
  


Softly closing her door, he returned to the living room of his small apartment. His small apartment that he and Claire were going to leave when their family got bigger. That hope was now tainted. Mom and Dad still stood by the door, their faces now masked with unmistakable unpleasantness and ire.  
  


"You have a daughter?" his mom sounded horrified. It was hard to Leon to figure out why.  
  


"Yes." he stretched his words out and nodded slowly. His father's face grew angry.  
  


"After all we taught you? After every thing we've done for you? You ran out and knocked up so poor girl?" Leon stared at his father in pure amazement. What the hell was he talking about?  
  


"Knocked up? I guess you could use that term, but it wasn't like Grace was an accident." Leon glanced from his father to his mother.   
  


"What happened to her mother? Some drug addict!?" His mother was now becoming hysterical. It took a moment to realize that Leon's jaw was hanging open. Sudden rage boiled in his soul.  
  


"Who do you think you are? You barge in my home out of the clear blue sky, then ask me for money? And on top of that you disgrace my wife!?" Leon had to remember to keep up voice down. His mother's eye's softened a tad.   
  


The room fell uncomfortably silent. A throbbing pain lodged it's way into the side of Leon's brain. He looked from one parent to the other. The people that he called his mother and father looked at Grace's bedroom door. Their faces lax and full of confusion. Didn't they know anything? No, after all, he had barely talked to them.  
  


"That's right, you got married." his mothered whispered. His father ran an aged hand over his dry mouth.  
  


"Yes, I guess you forgot." Leon hissed. "But I can't blame you since you didn't have the decency to show up at my wedding." His mother ceased to say anything else.  
  


"So, how is Carla?" his father's weak attempt to redeem the situation failed miserably.  
  


"I think you mean Claire." Leon winced. To say her name was painful. His dad turned a deep shade of crimson.  
  


"Uh, right. How is she?"  
  


Leon's breath caught. He didn't know what to tell them. He didn't dare want to say the words aloud. It was like a knife stabbing through him every time he had to say she was dead. Whenever he heard himself say it, it just reminded him that he had to come to terms that she was never coming back. When she told people she was gone, it only made it all the more true. Crossing to the kitchen, he pulled open the cabinet doors. Fetching any pain relievers he could find. Leon filled a glass of water to the rim.  
  


"She's dead." he grunted before he swallowed the small tablet. "Died about a month and a half ago." His throat closed up again.  
  


"How?" his mother soughed. Fury flashed through him once more. Why were they making him relive his hell? Not knowing how hard he was gripping his glass until it shattered.  
  


"Don't you know anything about my life?" Leon whipped his head around to stare at them. "Do you know what I do for a living?"  
  


"Yes, Don't you work at that at school? You keeps the grounds clean?" his Dad tried and once again, failed.  
  


"That was when I was eighteen." Leon reminded them bitterly. "I'm a Police Officer now." That was partly a lie. Correction, he was a Police Officer. Or at least in about a few days. He had already put in his two-weeks notice.  
  


"You work with the Police Force?" His father asked pleased.  
  


"Yeah, I worked with them for about seven years. But you won't be able to enjoy the fact that your son's a cop for too long. My last day is on Friday."  
  


Actually, he had not planned on leaving the Police Force for quite some time. He knew he'd have to leave at one time or another. After all, a widower couldn't take care of his only child if he was afraid of killing himself on the job. He didn't want to leave Grace an orphans. Leon knew he would leave, but not at least for a year or so. No, that had all changed a week and a half ago. Coming to work one day, he realized he couldn't stay.  
  


He remembered . . .  
  


It was last Thursday. Kenny had called him in his office to fill out some paper work. When he had entered, he saw many of his co-workers gathered around a small televison set in the corner of his office.   
  


"What are they doing?" Leon asked. Kenny didn't seem to think to much about his question.  
  


"Oh, those guys are going over surveillance tapes of robberies and so forth."   
  


The word robbery made Leon cringe. He had not bothered to tell the boys that's how Claire died. When people asked him, he just shook his head and mumbled incoherently. It had been on the news, but not everyone watches the six o'clock news.  
  


"Where's the paper work?" Leon eyes scanned Kenny's desk. Kenny handed him a stack of reports. Suddenly the guys watching the T.V. let out low sounds of sickness.  
  


"Owe, that's got to hurt. He probably broke her jaw." Rick said to his partner. A few seconds later there was more loud conversation from that corner of the room.  
  


"Wow! That guy looks like you, Kennedy!" Bob shouted over at him.   
  


Leon didn't know what they were talking about at first. Then he achieved what they were watching. Leon shoved his way over to the T.V. set. Horror seized him as he saw the back of himself displayed on the tiny screen. He was pointing his gun at a scrawny looking kid in a mask. Claire was getting herself off the floor.  
  


"Oh wait, Kennedy, that is you!"   
  


Claire, to see her moving was too close to home. She looked so alive. So vibrant. It suddenly registered on his co-workers what this was a tape of. They all were about to figure out how his wife mysteriously died.  
  


"Shit! Turn it off!" Kenny shouted. The Bob fell to his knees, fumbling with the buttons of the VCR.  
  


Leon caught a glimpse of a soundless Claire suddenly, quickly standing in front of him. He saw everyone that was on the ground flinch indicating a loud noise had suddenly erupted. And she fell into his arms. Bob finally got the right button and the last scene of Leon pulling off Claire's sweatshirt was interrupted with a black screen. Everyone stood in silence and shame of what they had witnessed. Leon stared at the blank T.V. Full of emotion and anger. It had brought everything back.   
  


"Leon . . ." Rick started. "Was-was that your . . ."  
  


No one said anything, everyone knew. Leon had to leave and never come back.  
  


His family looked around his apartment. Staring at pictures of him and Claire. His wedding photo mounted above the couch. One was taken the day Grace was born. Leon was holding her up in front of the camera proudly. A pink cap placed on her head as she stared back at the camera with naive, innocent eyes. Another picture of Claire, in her hospital bed. She was holding Grace and looking exhausted. Leon was also in the picture, leaning over, pressing his cheek next to Claire. His wedding band glimmered next to his daughter. A stupid grin plastered on his face.  
  


"How old is your daughter?" Asked Mom. Leon wiped his brow and stat down on the arm of the couch.  
  


"She'll be five this January." Leon answered. He looked at his Dad who stared over his shoulder of a photo of Grace drinking a coke. Her cheeks puffed out as she held it in her mouth.   
  


"How long were you and Clara married?" Asked his Dad.  
  


"Claire and I were married almost six years before. . ." he stopped. No he didn't want to tell them again. "Don't worry, we were married a year and a half before Grace was born." he stated with a hint of annoyance in his rough voice.  
  


He really wished they'd leave. It was just too hard to have a conversation with them. Every word he spoke was like opening up old wounds. Why was his life so confusing? Adam could get in trouble with the law and still be number one in his parents eyes, but if he had knocked Claire up, that was a sentence to get condemned from his family. A double standard. Life wasn't fair. He wanted Claire back, he wanted Grace to go to sleep. He wanted his parents to leave.  
  


They did. After a moment or so of checking out his home, they silently whispered a goodbye and walked out the door. An emotion of anger flushed through his body. He never wanted to see them again. Guilt washed the anger away with the realization of what he wanted. But was he really wrong to think such thoughts?  
  


Leon decided he needed to smash something.  
  


***  
  


She had been on the lookout for Shane. It still made her sick to think that she had been that close to her unborn son, and yet never value her small time with him. When she had talked with him, he had seemed so . . . grown up. She was talking to a man, not a boy. What and why didn't she get to see him now? She had gone over the things he had said to her a million times in her head. None of it made any sense of course. Somehow, it seemed like he was talking in code. That there was some hidden message and if she played it backwards, she'd get her answer.  
  


'Your test is over.'  
  


She had thought about that. Of course her test was over, she was dead! But was there a double meaning? She sat down on the bench that she had seen him on almost two weeks ago. Test, test. There had to be something. Her life was a test. But how could she make it more over than it already was? Shane had also told her to enjoy th weekend. What the hell did that mean? He was probably speaking some metaphor that she could crack.  
  


The whole thing made her head hurt. Why was it still possible to feel pain, even in death? She couldn't feel a hit or swing, but she could feel her throat close up, or her heart begin to break.  
  


"I hate this!" she shouted into the night. "Why won't you give me an answer!? Did I do something wrong? What did I do to totally screw up my life!?" Yelling wasn't going to help anything, but perhaps she could try.  
  


"Why are you screaming?" A deep voice questioned behind her. Claire spun around.  
  


"Jack!" She hadn't seen him since her funeral. He looked the same, but this time he wasn't pretending to smoke.  
  


"I was . . . shouting." she said stupidly. Jack put his hand over his mouth to hide his grin.  
  


"I see you haven't found to key to the gates of heaven yet." he observed.  
  


"Yes, but that doesn't mean that I have found anything out." She answered back sharply.  
  


"Like what?"  
  


"Well," she paused. "I know there is a heaven, I know there is a God. I just don't know how to get there." Jack raised his eyebrows at her.  
  


"So, you still think there is a God?" she nodded. He laughed.  
  


"That's just like you! I can always tell who the religgies are."  
  


"How can you be so happy-go-lucky?" asked Claire astounded with Jack's light attitude. "You're dead! Wasn't it hard to see your family morn your death? Isn't hard for you to see things you can no longer touch or taste? How can you be so silly?" Jack was now looking at her, the expression on his face was anything but silly.  
  


"Hey!" he sounded offended. "You don't know my story! You have no idea what I went through after my death. You're a newbie. You have no idea how bad it's going to get. You don't have a clue on the kind of withdraws you are going to feel, how lonely this" he waved his hands around him. "becomes. Walking around, trying to pretend you are alive again. I can see why all those other ghosts scream and shout at the living. They're half mad with loneliness, half mad with despair. And here you walk around, telling me there is a God?" He walked close to her. She could have felt his breath if he could breathe. "Well guess what Claire? There is no God. There is no Heaven either. But there is a Hell. Look around, this is Hell."  
  


She had no idea. She'd forgotten that he had died way before she had. What was she going to say to him? What had he gone through? Just then, she had a sudden desire to ask him what it was like for him after he died. Did he see anything that could help her? She had to take a shot, so she did.  
  


"What happened, the night you died? What did you go through?" Jack looked at her. She could see that she brought up an uncomfortable topic.  
  


Jack shifted his weight a few times. He stared down at his shoes. She gazed closely at him. Noticing the way he shoved his hands in his pockets. The way he seemed to breath faster. Finally after a few seconds, he spoke.  
  


"It was a long time ago. You know how memories fade with age?" She nodded.  
  


"Yes. No matter how much I've loved a memory, it always fades a little bit."  
  


"Well not this one." Jack ran a hand through his messy black hair. "It's like a picture in a book. I can see everything perfectly. If I could see it any better, I'd be able to reach out and touch it." Claire knew what he was talking about. That's how she remembered her death.  
  


"I can remember the cigarette I was smoking." he continued. "I remember how it brunt when it fell in my lap. I can see the truck heading toward my car. I can still hear the screech of the tires. And then it all just goes black. The next thing I knew, I could see fire. But I was cold. My first thought was that I got thrown from the car. I wasn't hurt." He stopped. Claire looked at him and urged him to continue by nodding her head. "I saw a hand in the flames. It was turning black and bits were falling off. Then I saw my highschool ring on the finger. After that, all I could hear was myself screaming."  
  


Claire let out an exhale. At least she tried to.  
  


"Sounds rough." she whispered.  
  


"What about you? What was it like for you?" He was looking at her intently. Claire didn't know where to begin.  
  


"It's a long story." Jack shrugged.  
  


"So, I've got an eternity."   
  


Claire pushed her lips together. Folding her arms in front of her, she raised her eyebrows and leaned forward.  
  


"Well, in a nutshell, I was shot in a robbery." Jack nodded. "It was painful. I was shot in the stomach. I remember Leon." Pausing, she'd forgotten what it was like to say his name aloud. "He was holding me. He kept telling me to hang on. I was so scared. Then all the fear, all the pain stopped. And I saw Leon rocking my body. It was then I knew I was dead."  
  


"You really loved him, didn't you?"  
  


"I still do."

Jack rocked on his hells.  
  


"I never knew that. I never knew perfect love." Claire snorted at his comment. He look surprised.  
  


"Trust me, our love wasn't perfect." She chuckled a little bit at how naive he was. She was naive about death, he was naive about love. "Him and I met under the worst circumstances."  
  


"But I thought your love was pure." Jack still didn't understand.  
  


"Pure love and perfect love aren't the same thing. Leon and I, we had to work at stuff. We were still working at stuff. You know, he has the worst taste in music? It drove me crazy, he would sing those songs in the shower." Jack laughed.   
  


"So it wasn't perfect."  
  


"No, not even close. But it was pure. Leon was and still is the love of my life. I'd do anything for him. Now, our love didn't start out pure. We got married because we liked the way we felt when we were around each other. We had a lot of things in common. He made me feel comfortable, and I was really attracted to him. That's why most people get married. It was still love, but it wasn't as deep. I had to learn a lot of things."  
  


"Like what?" Jack sat on the ground with his back pressed against the building.  
  


"Patience. Now, patience was not one of my virtues, but I had to learn it. I learned it for him. I also had to discover how to sacrifice. You always have to give. Marriage and family, it's just give, give, give. I got jealous. He got jealous. It was hard."  
  


"Sounds hard." They stopped talking. The wind blew past them.   
  


"Oh, but it was so worth it." Claire shook her head and looked down. "To give yourself so completely to another person is difficult. However, when you see them giving themself to you in return, it makes all the pains of marriage seem like a little spat. That huge sacrifice that seemed so huge now seems so small. Marriage is a partnership. That's the only way it can work and have you still be happy. When I reached that concept, our love became a little bit more perfect."  
  


"So, if there is no perfect love, why fall in love in the first place?" He questioned.   
  


"Love is always being perfected. To find perfect love would take hundreds, maybe even thousands of years. Unfortunately, we don't have that long to discover it. Same as people, we might become polish people if we lived long enough. But no one is perfect, and no love is perfect, but there are pure people. How? Because what makes you pure are your intention, your desires. What you think about on a regular basis without guilt or shame. Same with love. If your whole goal is to expense yourself for your lover, then your love is pure. That is, within reason." She sighed. This was a difficult thing to explain.  
  


"Sounds complicated. Death is so much more simple."  
  


"Is it?" She gazed at him. "We have no idea why we are stuck here in this limbo. Maybe death is simple because we don't know much about it. Perhaps if we dug, we'd find it had a lot more twists and turns."  
  


"All I know is what I've seen." Jack stood up from his spot on the ground. "I've seen people get sucked up in a red light when they've died. But I never saw one when I was killed. And I take it neither did you." She shook her head. "Whatever your looking for, the answer to life and death is in there. That red light could be the gate to Heaven or Hell. Or maybe you get zapped into nothing when you go through it.  
  


"There no's perfect person, no perfect love. Perfect life doesn't exist, why should there be a perfect death?" Claire's attempt for him to help her failed. He started to walk away. "I hope you find what you are looking for Claire. I hope you do find your Heaven. I hope you find your perfect afterlife."   
  


He left her, standing alone again in front of her building. What was she going to do now? Could he be right? Perfection was not something that was created in this world. Were love and death so different? She and Leon had their problems, she had problems with death as well. If only she could talk to Shane again. If only she could get more answers.  
  


If only.  
  


To be Continued . . .  
  


A/N: Okay, I know this wasn't the chapter you were all looking for. But I had to get a few things out of the way. I'm trying to go a little bit more slow with this story. I also know I rambled on about "love" and "death" in this chapter. But there is a reason for that. I also thank you all about you comments about my grandfather. I really appreciated it.  
  


Tifa Redfield : I didn't give you many answers in this chapter. I'm really sorry. But I love your reviews. They make me feel special. I hope you know how awesome I think you are. I know I say it all the time, but it really is true. You are like my fanfiction buddy. I love to hear from you. I also thank you for what you said about my granddad. I can't imagine what you went through. But we need more strong people in this world. You're defiantly one of them. Thank you so much!  
  


Santiago: Oh, I love U2. Ha! Get it? Yeah, if this did have a CD. I'd stick that song on there. I love what you say, I look forward to hearing from you. You are just the best, and I wonder if you've updated your story? Yes? No? Well, I hope you know how cool you are. Thank again!

  
  


watchdog210 : Hey! What can I say about my buddy? I have to thank you so much for what you've done. You have such kind words that are more helpful than you can imagine. Thank you for sending me those nice emails. And your last one made me realize, I needed to update. But thanks again. I love the fact that you help me out so many times. It's nice to have an LDS friend and I'll try and email you later. Oh! And I almost forgot you in this, I was in such a hurry, I went over you. I can't believe I did that! So I'm sticking you in, because you really deserve to have a thank you. You've helped me. From all your friends in Washington.

  
  
  
  


Agent182 : Dude! You are the coolest. I love you (not like that) But you are awesome! And yep, you got the whole Shane thing. She was talking to her son to be. Kind of a odd twist, but I liked it. And yes, I do love you fic. You WILL continue it, even if I have to reach through the screen and make you! But you are very kind and I hope you never stop writing. Thanks!  
  


Frenchy : You are just cool I can't say more than that. I could rave about you, but I'm sure you don't want to hear that. (Yeah right). I'm not sure if you've updated either. But I loved what you had so far. I thought it was very, very good! It pulled me right in, I think I put you on my favs list. I'm sure I did. If not, you have to update so I can! But thank you for your nice review. And thank you for your condolence of my granddad. You rock!  
  


Darkchild2010 : I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you cry! I so sorry! But you have left me such wonderful reviews. I love reading everything you say. Peace!!  
  


Black Phoenix KaT : I know! The chilly feeling is quite freaky. But thanks for the awesome review. I felt all warm and fuzzy inside. Thank you tons!!  
  


Dale : I got my name from a phone commercial if you can believe it. diddly day that is. I was just typing and I heard it so I thought, that can be my pen name. But thank you. You have me hooked on your story. I love to read everything you write, and I'm starting to feel like I'm repeating myself, but it's true, you are just the coolest ever! You just know how to write. Thats all I can say. But thats odd you were born at that time. Kinda freaky! I didn't mean to do that! You and I were born the same year though. I hope you like turning 18!  
  


tek : The coolest reviewer ever. I hope this chapter was easier to read because my format was all funky. I liked making Claire pregnant. Makes my story a little bit harder to write. I think I'm painting myself into a corner with this. But I'm glad you liked. You are awesome and I will await your next review.  
  


Dragon43 : Thank for you kind words and your review. I look forward to hearing from you.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Grace's Stranger

_**Darkest Hour**_

_**By diddly day**_

_**A/N: I'm baaaackkkk! I've been really busy with school. But I somehow found time to write a chapter. I in March I'll have all the time I want to write all the chapters I need. You all rock for reviewing, and I'll be sure to thank you in my next chapter. But it's really late ( I wrote the end before I wrote the begging) So please review and I'll thank you next time. This chapter is a little bit different. And Don't say anything about the typo's, there aren't many and it's not the end of the world so DEAL WITH IT!**_

_**Chapter five:**_

"Daddy!"

Something was wrong. She never, ever called him Daddy unless the unthinkable happened. She wasn't shouting. No. She was screaming.

He awoke abruptly at her cries. Looking down, he found that he had fallen asleep in his clothes again. Leon felt Grace's little hand grab his large arm. His heart stopped with confusion as hair-raising scenarios flew through his head. Grace's hands were cold. But the coldness wasn't what scared him. Her hands were shaking. Leon sat straight up in his bed. His muscles screamed in protest, nonetheless, he pulled Grace into his arms. It wasn't just her hands that were shaking. Her whole body racked with sobs as Leon held his little girl to his chest.

"Daddy!"

Her shrieking was muffled into his chest. Yet something wasn't right. Her voice sounded different. It sounded rough, gravely. Leon pulled her away gently. Placing his bold hands on her tiny, quivering shoulders, he whispered soothingly to her.

"What? What's wrong?" His voice was softer than wanted it to be.

He wasn't sure if Grace was able to hear him. She looked up at him, her eyes bright red from the tears that splashed openly down her cheeks. Leon caught a glimpse of her face. She was snowy white, and her forehead slicked with sweat.

"Dad," Her voice, it was so strange. What was wrong with her? "Dad, there was some-someone in my room."

The muscles in Leon's face slacked in panic. He gripped Graces shoulders gently. She hung her head. Sniffling as she began to cry again. He slowly turned his head back to the door to make sure no one was lurking behind him. Straining to listen through Grace's sobs as he held her tight, if someone was moving around in the hall. Her cry's were becoming earthshattering. He kept his eyes glued to the door.

A sharp cough flared from Grace's mouth. Leon swung his head back to her. He could feel her body quaking. Blood sprayed from her mouth in fine drops. She strained to stop her weeping in fear she might cough again. Leon stared down at the floor where her blood spilled on the carpet. Leon wove his arms around her and pulled her up on the bed. Resting his hands on her collar of her nightshirt, he lifted it back.

Bruises puffed vulnerably around her neck.

Leon sprang to the telephone at his bedside. Dialing 911 as fast as his fingers could. Dialing the police? You are the police! Leon almost hung up. No, I'm not the police anymore. He stayed on the line.

"911 emergency."

"There is someone in my house." He proceeded to tell them everything in a matter of seconds. After they said that the police were on they way, Leon ran to his dresser and pulled out his gun.

"Grace," he placed his gun in the back of his pants and lifted her in his arms, "we're going next-door. You know Mrs. Carnegie? She and her husband are going to watch you and make sure you're safe."

As swiftly as he could, he moved her out into the hallway and lightly knocked on Mrs. Carnegie's door. He nervously glanced his door, and then to the window at the end of the hall. Anyone could be prowling around the apartment building. Leon banged more impatiently on the door again. This time it swung open. The little lady looking up at the father and his daughter.

"What is it?" Mrs. Carnegie sounded worried. "Is the child sick again?"

"Mrs. Carnegie, someone's broken into my apartment." At his words, her shriveled hands alarmingly found the way to her neck. "I need you and your husband to watch over Grace. Will you do that?"

"Yes! Of course! Give her to me." He folded Grace peacefully into Mrs. Carnegie's arms.

"Bridget! Who's at the door?"a serious voice came from behind. Mrs. Carnegie smiled warmly at Leon.

"Don't mind him. Grace is safe now."

Leon turned back to his door. Before the Carnegie's door closed, he heard her whisper: "Poor boy, he's been through enough already."

He was not let her words affect him. He didn't have time to think about Claire now. He carefully pulled the gun close to him and entered his apartment.

It was quite. He didn't like that. Shadows that cast on the wall mocked him into trickery at the slightest movement. A wheezing sound lightly flourishing from the darkness made him uneasy, until he found it was his own breathing. Snaking around the wall toward Grace's bedroom, the floor creaked underneath him. The faint thudding of his heart pulsed through his body, as though is seemed to be coming from the floor. Shakespear would've been proud.

His mouth salivated to wet the desert that now formed in his mouth. He desperately wanted a glass of water. The chalky sensation that caked his tongue was driving him insane as he paced closer to Grace's door. The gun weighed heavier then he remembered. Sweaty and slipping through his fingers, Leon gripped his gun tighter. He hadn't felt this way since Raccoon. The intensity and drama was enough to kill him before any burglar could.

He pushed her door softly with his foot. It drifted back, almost floating. Taking a deep breath, Leon switched himself into cop mode. Shouting as loud as he could that it was the police, he swung his gun behind the door check for a potential hiding place. No one. Flipping the light on, the empty room uttered no soul.

_No boogeymen in the closet. No monsters under the bed._

And no phantoms outside. The window was untouched. The only thing that argued anyone even slept in that room was Grace's tangled blankets. Yet, nothing was taken. Nothing was broken. Nothing. The scratching of a cat outside Grace's window jolted him for an instant. Leon checked the remainder of the apartment. The hazy sound of sirens in the distance calmed him.

Had there been anyone in the apartment?

If he could've talked to Claire, who had been watching over Grace that night, she would've told him she had seen no person enter Grace's room at all.

**_I I I_**

"So Grace, did you hear your door open?"

Grace shook her head. Detective Anderson looked around the apartment. Flashes as photographers snapped pictured of the apartment, while officers dusted for prints.

"What about your window?"

Again, she shook her head.

'Grace, you can tell them." Leon put his hands on her shoulders. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Claire nodded inwardly as she watched. They had gotten to the apartment quickly. And she had to commend Leon for his bravery for coming back into the apartment. However, it was all in vain. For Claire was watching Grace sleep, and had seen no one enterher room. Still, she observed her family standing around the small room.

"Grace, can you come with me? I want to talk to you in private," said Anderson

He couldn't do that, of course. Not without Leon's consent. Claire immediately saw Leon stand in protest.

"That is, with your permission," Detective Anderson added.

"You can't traumatize her anymore. She's been through enough tonight," Leon snapped through gritted teeth. "You should be out there trying to find this guy. Looking for any suspicious wanderers."

"I won't do anything you don't want me to do. But eventually, we will have to question her privately. I can get a warrant. So we can do it here, or at the station." Leon didn't say anything. After a moment Anderson laughed. "Come on Kennedy! You used to be a cop, you know how it works!"

"Fine," Leon spat. "But only because I don't have anything to hide." Claire noted Anderson trying to look innocent. "Save it, I already know you have to suspect everyone. But If I look over here and see you are making her cry, I will be arrested. For _your _murder."

Leon stomped away to be questioned by Detective Wise. Anderson turned back to Grace. Pulling up a chair so he could sit next to her.

"Grace, I know you are frightened, but if we are going to catch this guy, I need you to tell me everything that happened tonight. Can you tell me what happened?"

Claire moved next to her daughter and placed a hand through her shoulder. She could feel Grace's fear. She understood what she was feeling at that exact moment. Frustration and confusion mixed with pity. Pity for who? For Leon?Grace knew what the Detectives wondered if Leon had hurt her.

As for Grace, though Claire could feel her fear, Grace could feel the presence of her mother.

"I know what you're thinking," she stated at once. "It wasn't my Dad. He was asleep on his bed. He's tired a lot. He slept in his clothes again. He does that a lot too."

"How old are you Grace?" Anderson asked. Grace shrugged and wiped her swollen eyes.

"Almost five."

"You're very smart for a five-year-old," he observed.

"I'm almost five. But thanks."

"You're so smart, I know you will be able to tell me about everything that happened tonight." Anderson gently squeezed her hand.

'Don't do that." Grace pulled her hand away from his. "I don't know you, so don't touch me."

"Okay. I just don't want you to be scared."

"I hadn't gone to sleep yet. I was still awake." Grace rubbed her hands together. Swinging her legs back and forth off the seat, she stared ahead at the wall. Claire smiled with love for her daughter.

"When you got attacked?" Grace nodded. "So you've must've heard something strange."

"No. I didn't hear anything. It was really dark."

"But you weren't asleep." Anderson hunched forward with his forearms on his knees. His eyes flashed, wanting to know what Grace was about to tell him. "How did you know someone was in the room if you didn't hear anything?"

"It was different." Grace looked back at her dad, who, in turn, had calmed down. "You know when you're in the park, and you feel someone watching you?"

Anderson shook his head.

"What do you mean?" he netted his brow together and rubbed his mouth with his hands.

"Well, one time I was at school during recess. And I felt like someone was watching me. There was this guy on the swings who was looking at all of the kids. But he kept looking at me, and I felt sick when he did. I thought he was a teacher, so I didn't tell him to stop."

"What did you do?" Claire saw Anderson turning pale as they both knew what Grace was talking about. Perverts and pedophiles were something that Anderson detested. Claire saw that in his eyes.

"He started to talk to me. I pretended he wasn't there. I kept playing in the sandbox. But he kept talking, like he was pretending that I was listening. Finally, I started to get a really bad feeling. Bad like when you felt like you've done something wrong. But before he stopped talking, I saw my Mom standing by the school fence waving at me."

Claire inwardly groaned, because she remembered that day.

"Did you tell your parents?" Grace nodded.

"I didn't want to because I felt bad. But my Mom knew something was wrong and asked me. I told her and I didn't get into trouble. But after that my Dad always came to pick me up from school. And he always picked me up in his police car."

The two were silent.

"That's the way I felt tonight. That's how I knew someone was in the room. I got the bad feeling again. I felt like I was being watched." Her voice trembled.

"It's okay, Grace."

"Then I felt hands on my neck, and I couldn't breathe." Silent tears started drip down to her chin. Claire put her hand through her again, to reassure Grace that she was still there. "I tried to scream but he was squeezing too hard. I was reaching out and knocked over my glass of water." She was crying freely now.

"Hey, don't cry Grace. I don't want your Dad to kill me." He tried to joke, but it failed. It was too grown up for her to understand. He had forgotten that she was only five. "How did you get away?"

"It just stopped. I could breathe again. Then, I just jumped out of my bed and pulled open my door to find my Daddy." She put her hand over her mouth to keep from crying harder.

"Did you find him?"

"He was asleep. I didn't want to wake him because he's always so sad and tired." Anderson looked back at Leon who was now arguing with Wise.

"Why is your dad sad?"

"He's been sad ever since my Mom went away."

"Did she leave him? Did he hurt her?" Grace's head sprang up and her eyes blazed.

"No! He would never do that. She-she was killed."

"How?" Anderson asked.

This time, Grace held nothing back as she began to cry. Claire glared accusingly at him, ignoring the fact that he couldn't see her.. But when she saw the look on his face, he knew he shouldn't have asked that. And he knew he had pressed Grace too far.

"What the hell did you say to her?" Leon was now marching over to Anderson with all the insane fury of hell in his eyes.

"I brought up your wife." Leon wasn't expecting that answer. Claire watched as his hand bunched into a fist. His face turning beet-red.

"Why? Is it not enough to interrogate her about a horrible experience, but you also have to bring up her dead Mother?"

"I need to eliminate you as a suspect. I need to know if you have had any violent behaviors in the past." Anderson exclaimed calmly. Leon, however, looked wilder than ever.

"You_ son of a bitch_," he whispered. "You want to know how my wife died, you ask me. But do not put my daughter through that hell again."

"How?" Anderson stared Leon directly in the eye. Challenging him like a rabid wolf.

"She was shot to death in a robbery. Would you like to see the police report?" Leon was now towering over Anderson. Claire never knew her husband to be so intimidating.

"No, that's not necessary." Anderson avoided Leon's eyes. Running a hand through his light hair, he moved away. "Do you have a place to stay?"

Leon took a deep breath and picked Grace up once more. "Yeah, I've called my brother-in-law." Anderson nodded, looking around the room full of investigators.

"Okay, you wait here. I'll go get Detective Wise and we'll ask around your neighbors." Claire saw Anderson's eye begin to twitch. He quickly covered it with his palm. He then motioned for Wise to meet him. "You two get some rest."

Leon sat down on the couch with Grace on his lap. Grace's eyes were already starting to droop and her breathing began to slow. Leon peeked again at her neck, his eyes glazed over as he blinked a few stray tears away. His lips twittered slightly. He used his free hand to cover his eyes for a moment. Claire sat across from him and watched him for a long while. Even when he was exhausted, he was still beautiful.

_Take care of yourself Leon. You're all Grace has left._

Leon closed his eyes and waited silently for Chris to arrive. Claire took her cue to leave and followed Anderson and Wise outside in the hall. The two stayed quiet for a long time. Then, Anderson spoke to Wise. His mood now forlorn and disturbed. Wise, on the other hand, seemed blunt and bored with the assignment.

"What did you pick up about the dad?" Anderson asked Wise.

"Not much. He seemed pretty angry at you for taking the little girl aside."

"Understandable."

"Other than that. I don't think he did it. He would've of taken the little girl out of the apartment and called the cops if he had. He did everything right."

"What about the crime scene? Find anything unusual?" Wise held up his fist in a circle.

"Zero. Nothing was broken. The door showed signs that it was latched shut before she ripped it open. The window didn't have any signs of forcible entry. There was nothing under her bed, or in her closet."

"She said she knocked over her glass of water." Anderson looked Wise up and down, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

"I saw it. But she didn't knock it over. It's still there, not broken. Half empty or half full. You decide." Anderson sighed in frustration. "Look, we dusted for finger prints. There is no sign of a break-in. She probably just had a nightmare. We have no evidence."

Anderson rolled his eyes.

"Yean, none except for the bruises on her neck. How do you explain that?" Wise shrugged at his question.

"Maybe she did it to herself in her sleep! I don't know. Haven't you ever had a dream where you've heard something, or felt something, and when you wake up, it was something happening in real life that some how got incorporated into your dream? She dreamt she was being strangled because she was strangling herself. Makes sense doesn't it?"

"Maybe, maybe not. Whatever the reason, we need to talk to Mr. and Mrs. Carnegie." Anderson went to knock on their door.

"I'll check out their other neighbor. Lets see, her name is-" he flipped through a clipboard with the attendants. "Jessica Marshal."

"All right, you question Ms. Marshal." Claire followed Anderson over to the Carnegie's. He knocked on the door flatly.

"Yes? Oh! Is Grace okay?" The old woman bursted out.

"She's quite fine. I assure you. But I need to ask you a few question-" he was cut off by a loud shout.

"ANDERSON! GET OVER HERE!" Wise's cries were muffled in Jessica Marshal's apartment. Not losing a beat, Claire and Anderson took off toward the door.

Claire saved the time of running through the apartment by passing through the walls. She found herself floating into Jessica's bedroom. Wise stood dumbfounded as Anderson stumbled into the room. A cold breeze from the open window floated through the room. The certain flapping gently against the glass windowpane. Claire felt the corners of her mouth tug down into a frown.

"Oh my hell." Anderson whispered.

Jessica Marshal lay still in her bed. Her black, puffy face shadowed by the dim light that filled her room. Eyes popping out in a gruesome manner. The stench of death was suffocating, even to the dead. A broken alarm clock lay broken in pieces next to her bed. Her white neck identical to the pattern of bruises on Grace's neck.

**_I I I_**

"That's so creepy!" Jill hushed after she tucked Grace in.

"So the girl next-door was dead?" Chris asked.

Leon nodded. He knew Jessica. She was a young, sweet girl who often babysat for Grace. Claire had teased him about having an affair with her. Leon was usually digested by that thought. She was far too young, it was hard to imagine any other woman in his life that wasn't Claire.

"Yeah. I knew her, but not too well. She was nice. She mostly talked to Claire." Leon sat on Chris's couch. "I miss her," Leon murmured.

"I thought you said you didn't know her that well?" Jill sat down next to Leon.

"Not Jessica. I meant Claire. I miss her." He put his face in his hands.

"We all do," Chris stated. He sat across from Leon. "Still, it must of been terrifying, to have Grace rush in your room like that."

"It was."

"Do you think she heard that woman being strangled through the wall and dreamt it was her?" Jill asked. She opened a soft drink and handed it to Leon. He took it without objection.

"It's possible. But I'm still scared to go back home. It's so lonely there. Claire, she really was the life in that small apartment." He sipped his drink. "I have so many memories there. I don't want to go back. I feel her ghost there."

Chris was surprised. This was the first time in months that Leon talked about Claire openly. It was a good thing. Leon needed to talk about Claire. They all knew it. He was lonely, he had Grace, but it wouldn't be the same. He needed some one to love in that adult way. He wanted and needed romance. But knowing Leon, he would probably never date again until the day he died.

"When did you first meet her?" asked Chris. "I know it was in Raccoon, but when and where?"

Leon smiled faintly.

"It was at that stupid diner. I held a gun to her face. I almost blew her head clean off." Leon giggled a little, and then shivered. "She was so beautiful." He smiled wistfully. "You know, she was truly ravishing. A natural beauty. Even without makeup. I didn't have time to goggle at her then, but I felt something in those few short seconds we stared at each other. I felt so comfortable. Like I'd known her my whole life."

"Maybe you two knew each other in a past life. You were soul-mates" Jill smiled.

"I don't believe in past lives. And I don't believe in fate. Yet, I know our meeting wasn't a coincidence." His smiled turned upside down. "I really loved her. I still lover her." He brushed a hand over his trembling mouth. "When will the pain stop?"

"I don't think it will ever stop." Chris answered wisely. "Love like that, it doesn't go away without leaving something behind. You just need to focus on Grace. She's all that matters now. She needs her father to be strong."

"A little advice," Leon leaned forward to Chris. "Never, ever take Jill for granted. You'll never know what you have until it's gone." Jill rubbed his back and smiled.

"Thanks Leon."

"Don't worry," Chris smiled at Jill. "I'll never let her out of my sight."

"Get some rest. You deserve a good nights sleep." Jill let Leon spread out on the couch, and folded a blanket over him.

He didn't know when sleep overtook him, all he knew was he kept dreaming that it was Claire that was dead in the next apartment. But suddenly she would appear next to him, looking perfect in every way. Her skin and face was flawless with no sign of ageing. She looked like the woman the day they were married. However, her eyes held wisdom that reflected older than the stars. She kissed him to sleep. And it was the most peaceful night he'd had for a thousand years.

_**To Be Continued . . .**_

_**I will thank everyone who reviewed in my next chapter. I'm going to College and highschool so this is the first time I've had time to write in months. I hope you've all like this chapter. But it's about 12:12am here.**_

_**This chapter is for Jason, Congrads on the new baby boy! You have been so blessed.**_

_**And to Dale; who wrote an awesome story. You are so talented**_

_**I WILL thank you all in my next chapter. I'll thank you all twice if I have to, but I really need to get to bed. I hope you all liked!**_

_**If I find any typo's (and I will) I'll go back and change it. But not tonight. So SHUT IT! JK.**_

_**Diddly day**_


	6. Dreams, depression, and Debby

**Darkest Hour**

**By diddly day**

**Disclaimer: These people don't belong to me. Blah blah blah.**

**A/N: Yeah, I'm not going anywhere. Sorry, it's been hella busy. And I haven't updated this story in. . .who knows how long. I just beat Resident Evil 4 and am in kind of a Claire/Leon mood. I really needed a good fix. I'm so sorry for not updating quickly. This story is just so emotional to write. But I hoped you all like this chapter. I will have the next one up quickly. I swear my life on it.**

_**Chapter Six**_

"_Why do you always have to make everything so damn difficult?" _

_Leon flinched as he heard her slam_ _their bedroom door. Staring at it with shock and confusion, he allowed himself to inhale deeply and sweep a sweaty hand through his tangled hair. It wasn't like her to overreact so badly. He couldn't help feel a little worried. . .and pissed._

_Their argument really hadn't been about anything big. Leon knew that all couples fought about money, he just didn't believe that Claire would've gotten so worked up about it. He had walked into the kitchen and asked her what she wanted to do for dinner. After a hard days work, he wanted to have fun on his Friday night, but she suggested that they stay in. And before either of them knew it, she was red-faced and shouting at him that they couldn't afford to go out for the evening and that they better start saving their money for. . .bigger things._

_Bigger what exactly?_

_Still staring at the door his wife had shut his face, Leon timidly crossed the room and lightly knocked. When no one answered, he turned his face sideways and listened. A light sniffling noise greeted him. His heart sank._

_She was crying._

_But why? He knew that the heart of her outburst hadn't been about money._ _Even so, he had no idea how to talk to her about what was really bothering her when she was acting like this._ _Suppressing a groan, h_e _debated on leaving her alone and letting her cool off, or to go in there and try to make her feel better. It didn't really matter. He was damned. Either way, Claire was going to call him an asshole._

_Biting hard on his tongue, he rapt gently on the door again. He thought he could hear her breathing stop and he pictured her shifting uncomfortably on their bed._

"_Claire?" he asked tentatively. She didn't answer right away, but after a moment or two he heard her reply softly._

"_Go away Leon. Just please leave me alone."_

_Leon let out a sigh of relief. She didn't sound as angry as she had before. However, just as quickly as it had come, his relief turned into sorrow. No, she didn't sound upset. She sounded sad. . . ._

_A cold chill ran through his head anddown his neck. For a moment, it felt as though someone had cracked an egg right over him. His heart began to beat wildly with nervousness. He didn't want her to start screaming at him again, but he had to press her a little further._

"_I'll leave you alone if you want. But if you decide that you want to talk, I'm right here." He massaged his palms with his fingers in anxiety. Had he completely stepped over the line by saying that? Or had he at least earned enough for her to not yell at him._

_Instead, he got a absolutely different reply._

"_You're– you're not mad at me?" Leon stared at the door bewildered._

"_I thought you were mad at me," he said quickly. Yes, he was a little irritated at first by her eruption, but had forgotten that when he had heard her crying. She gave a timid laugh._

"_I'm not angry with you," she hesitated, "I'm angry with me." _

_Leon blinked and shook his head. For some reason, he had never felt so abashed. He pressed his damp hands to the doorhandle._

"_So, can I come in then?" _

_He heard her sigh and imagined her nodding while she sat on the bed. Opening the door cautiously, he peeked into the room and was quite surprised to see her sitting on the floor with her legs crossed. A rather small garbage can sitting next to her as she threw another used tissue into it. Her eyes weren't bloodshot, but lightly glazed over and peering shyly into his._

"_What's wrong?" She pressed her lips together and didn't say anything. Her eyes then broke away from him and she began to stare fixedly at the carpet. "Claire," Leon prodded. "What's wrong?"_

_She gave another troublesome sigh and turned her head with her eyes closed. Leon inwardly smiled. She really was very pretty. Even when she cried._ _Slowly, Claire turned to face him and then she spoke._

"_I just feel bad about screaming at you," she murmured. Leon couldn't help but grin._

"_Already?" She did not grin back. "Uh, I mean– that was less than ten minutes ago. Usually girls need a little more time to cool off."_

_A flicker in her eyes told him that he was not rambling on about the right thing. Clutching the doorhandle in fear that she might explode again, and that he might have to spend the night on the couch, Leon took a step forward._

"_Look sweety, it's okay. If you want to eat in. We'll eat in. It's not that big a deal," he pleaded, trying his best to conjure_ _a most sincere expression. "It's just. . . is there something else bothering you?"_

_As soon as he said this, her eyes softened and he thought she might burst into tears once more. Again, she surprised him. Claire's mouth broke out into a small smile._

"_It's really nothing Leon. I don't know why I got so mad." She then paused. "Well, I do have an idea." At the look on his face she giggled again. "Don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong."_

"_Then what?"_

_She looked down and gave a disappointed grunt. Reluctantly, she forced herself to look at him with steady eyes. Then, she rested her cheek on her left hand. "This really isn't how I wanted to tell you."_

_Leon walked forward and sat down cross-legged next to her. Eyeing her curiously up and down, he wondered what it was she wanted to tell him. For a moment she looked as though she had changed her mind about confiding to him_ _her secret. But when he threw an arm around her waist, she straightened and stared right into his blue eyes._

"_I'm pregnant."_

_It was simple. As if she were telling him what the weather looked like outside. Leon wasn't sure he hadn't heard her correctly. Shaking his head slightly, he gazed deeply at her._

"_I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Did you just say you were–"_

"_I'm pregnant." This time, she was smiling as she said it._

_Flashes went through Leon's head. He, Chris and Jill were downing glasses of champagne, except Claire, who had orange juice. . . . She was hunched over the toilet while he held her hair back away from her face. . . .He was putting together a crib and was swearing at his horrible creation as Claire stood in the doorway and laughed. . . .She was very big, and was desperately trying on clothes in a department store. . . .He was holding and consoling a weeping Claire, telling her she looked beautiful and glowing. . . . Chris was driving them to the hospital while she clung to Leon's clothes. Her face pale and sweaty. . . . A doctor was handing a little person over to a very tired looking Claire._

"_Leon," Claire's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The smile was gone from her face, and her brow was crinkled_ _with worry. "Leon, are you okay?"_

_He didn't say anything. He just continued to goggle at her. She reached out and touched his jacket, playing with the buttons._ _Still staring at him with a troubled expression plastered on her face._ _As he was about to say something, a broad grin swept quickly over his face that he couldn't have stopped even if he his muscles had had dead nerves. Claire stopped fiddling with his buttons and regarded_ _him very seriously. _

_Daddy. . ._

"_We're gonna have a baby?" he blurted out. _

_Daddy. . . ._

_Claire, who he had realized had been holding her breath, exhaled harshly and grabbed his rough hand with the both of hers._ _Her deep, cool eyes shimmered as she furrowed her brow gently. The corners of her mouth twitching upwards faintly. She paused for a few moments before she let her voice fill the room._

_Daddy. . . ._

"_Yeah," she whispered. "We're gonna have a baby."_

_**I I I**_

"Daddy!"

Leon was barely out of his sleep when he sensed someone leaning over him. The warmth of his blankets helped him to forget everything wrong that had happened in his life. All he wanted to do was curl deeper into them, go back to sleep, and never wake up.

SMACK!

"What the hell?"

He had to grab onto the end-table to keep himself from falling onto the floor. He'd forgotten that he was not sleeping in his own bed, but on Jill and Chris's couch. All the while, Grace wasn't stopping with her excessive badgering. Her pillow flying high into the air, and then landing over the crown of his head. Over. . .and over. . .and over again. Leon smiled grimly to himself.

_She's just lucky she's hitting me with a pillow or she'd be in big trouble._

"Okay! Okay! I'm up!" he grunted. She didn't stop.

It then dawned on him that he had no idea as to why Grace was so relentlessly swatting him. Before she could whack him again, Leon's hand shot out wrapped his fingers around her wrist. She didn't put forth any effort to try and stop him. Her arms went and limp, and her wrist seem to wilt in his palm. He glanced around her pillow that was now resting softly on his face to see that her cheeks were wet with tears.

"Grace? What happened?"

She stared at him blankly for an instant. Then, with her chin quivering, broke down completely.

"I don't want to go to sleep," she sobbed.

Leon ran his hand over the stubble on his chin. The past nights recollection flashed through his mind. Grace waking him up. Her crying. Bruises on her neck. Someone in the house. The neighbor-girl's dead body. Falling asleep in Chris and Jill's living room. . . . Dreaming of Claire.

He quickly grabbed Grace and swaddled her in his arms. Her howls muffled into his chest. He could feel her warm head under his jaw as she wept into his neck. Trying to soothingly shush her, he rocked her back and forth whispering that she was safe and that she didn't need to be afraid.

She had done so well after her mother's death. Leon swore that Grace had more strength than half the men on the force. She had cried lightly the day Claire had left them. Showing so much solidity and might. Grace was the one few thing that Leon could count on to keep him sane. But lately, he could see that she was beginning to break down. All the vigor that she had been running off of was starting to wear, and her instabilities were now showing their ugly faces.

His skin was now damp with her tears. Her voice was now growing husky, but she was still wailing so hard, Leon was sure she was going to blow out her vocal cords. Feeling her body convulse, he wasn't sure what to say to her. After tonight, a large amount of her innocence had been taken. The assurance that she was safe with her father was drifting further and further away. He didn't know how he was going to get it back.

"I miss Mom," Grace choked abruptly. Leon's body tensed. He wasn't aware that she had stopped rocking her. "I miss her."

A familiar lump found its way into his throat. No. He wasn't going to cry. Not in front of Grace. He was not going to expose his weakness to the one person who needed him to be strong. But he couldn't say anything. If he did, he knew his voice would break. He knew that his eyes would mist. He knew he would shed a few tears of his own. And he did not want Grace to see that.

"I wish she was here right now." Her cries were dying now.

_Me too._

"I want to talk to her."

_Me too._

"I need to hear her voice."

_Me too._

She had stopped crying now. Now she was sitting comfortably in her dads lap. Her head resting on his chest.

"I love her." She was never afraid to speak her mind. To voice her emotions. Yes. Grace was stronger than he could ever be. Trying his best to be brave, Leon took a deep breath.

"Me too."

_**I I I**_

"So is Grace okay?" Jill asked him the next morning as he poured him some Coffee. Leon shook his head.

"She had a real rough night." Jill nodded sympathetically and sat down to eat her eggs.

"That's understandable." Chris, who had been behind the newspaper, was now looking over at Leon very gravely. "I think that poor girl has been through enough. And some sick bastard comes in and– _Oh I hate President Graham!"_

"What?" Jill sputtered, now staring at her husband who had now retreated back behind his newspaper.

"Our new idiot of a President is trying to extend the waiting period for guns!" he said furiously flinging the paper around and showing the article to Leon and Jill. "It's stupid leaders like this that make it easier for murders to creep into peoples houses and choke them. Lousy Democrats!" Christ grunted before returning silent.

Leon made a mental note to never mention that he had voted for Graham in front of Chris. Chris, unlike Claire, was a hardcore Republican. Leon and Claire had been orthodox, but both usually voted Democrat. Chris and Claire had had some pretty heated debates over the years, which normally left Chris pissed and Claire calling her brother a "Son of a Bitch conservative" after he was out of earshot.

However, even though he and Claire had fought over politics so many times, Leon knew that Chris missed that. He missed debating and arguing with Claire. Hell, Leon missed arguing with Claire. He missed Claire. Period.

"You okay?" Jill was staring at him intently.

"Yeah." Leon gazed down at his food, but didn't eat. For some reason, he wasn't hungry anymore.

"Listen," Jill interrupted. "You and Grace are welcome to stay here. You can live here as long as you want."

"I don't want to intrude."

"It's not intruding!" Jill's voice jumped. "You know, we are more than happy." Leon held up his hand to silence her.

"It's okay. We have a perfectly good apartment. We just have to wait a few days for the police to check it out." He gazed at Jill face, which was pale and anxious, to Chris's, who was wearing a slight frown. "Besides, it's the only place that really feels like home."

That wasn't the whole truth. It hadn't felt like home since Claire had left. And the memories were still hard to endure. He still had a hard time walking past the spot by the couch where Claire had stat with her arms outstretched for Grace, as she took her first steps toward her. Even sleeping in their bed was difficult. It had been so harsh to remember all the nights they had spent together that sometimes Leon had to sleep on the couch. But the couch was rough to sleep on too. . . .

"I don't like being alone." Leon grimaced when he realized that he had spoken aloud. Jill eyed him compassionately.

"All the more reason for you to stay awhile." She was now smiling faintly. "Chris doesn't mind, do you?"

"No! No, of course not. That is, if you don't mind sleeping on the couch. I can't sleep on it. It make my back hurt like a bitch." Chris cringed at the thought of sleeping on his own couch. Leon laughed.

"I don't mind." He stared at the two. He couldn't tell them how much it meant to him to have their support and service. "Thanks."

Jill and Chris smiled at each other.

"Just don't bother us at night," Chris blurted "'Cause. . .well. . .you know." He blushed and stared fixedly again at his paper.

_**I I I**_

Claire had never been much of a drinker. But right now, she would've killed (and gone to hell) for a shot of whisky. The dead life was starting to get very boring. She was beginning to envy all the living. She, of course, knew the danger in this had made a pledge to work harder to find Heaven.

So far, she was sucking. . .really, really bad.

The scare that Grace had the night before made Claire sick to think about. She felt horrible that Jessica was murdered. And felt even worse that she hoped to pass Jessica's dead-self on the way. She remembered what Jack had said. About how when he saw someone die, a red light appeared. She wanted to see that red light. She wanted to jump into it and see where it led. Alas, nothing of the sort had happened.

She was still stuck here on Earth. In Hell. Same difference.

"I need some liquor!" she shouted.

It was the first time in her life that Claire found herself actually wanting to be drunk. Most of the time, she didn't like having to babysit people when she was with someone who was wasted. But in her position, she'd make an exception. She didn't want to feel anymore. To not have to worry, even for a little bit. She had always thought that she would've wanted to go first before Leon. That she couldn't bare to watch him die. To live without him.

But somehow, this was worse. It was terrible seeing him everyday, watching him suffer. And not be able to do a damn thing about it. Not having him see her. Not being able to talk to him. To touch him or kiss him. Grace was just as hard to watch. And soon, she was fighting the overwhelming urge to cry.

_She wanted a drink._

"The Lord doesn't approve of alcohol in Heaven, you know," said a woman's voice behind her. Claire spun around to find herself staring at a rather beautiful young woman. She was younger than her, but looked somehow familiar.

"Who are you?" Claire asked. "One of my dead children that I never got to know?" The woman smiled. She was so warm and stunning, Claire felt unworthy to stand before her.

"Close."

The lady walked closer to Claire. Her white clothes shimmered and it looked for a moment, that Claire could reach out and touch them. . . .

"You never knew me," The woman's smile broadened, "but I knew you."

"What? In the "Pre-Earth Life?'" Claire asked bitterly. The depression of not being able to find any answers was starting to get to her. Even so, the woman tilted her head to her side.

"Naturally," she said with patient air. "I knew you here too. Very well, I might add. But I strongly doubt you have any memory of me. You see, I died when you were very little."

"A lot of people died when I was little," Claire sighed.

"That is true." The gorgeous stranger stopped walking around her and stood right before her. "Your aunts and uncles. Your parents. A nanny of yours died in a car accident. You had a neighbor-girl who was killed by two boys by being drowned to death after they raped her. You've lost many people in your life. Many of whom you didn't know."

Claire stared at this woman. _She did know her_. She recognized her. But how?

"So who are you?" Her frustration was now beginning to die because of this woman's kindness. There was a glint in her eyes that she had seen so many times. Even in her dreams.

"You can call me Debby," she grin mischievously. Claire groaned.

"Please don't tell me that's the name you would've had, had you been born. Or that was your given name that you hated and changed it to Mysteria or something."

Debby giggled at this.

"No. I just really liked that name. Simple. Something about how it sounds. Debby." She stared dreamily off. She then peered at her with an odd expression that Claire couldn't read. "I see Shane left quite an impression on you."

"You know him?" Claire hushed. Ever since Claire had ran into her son-to-be, she would've given anything to see him again.

"Who don't I know?" Debby actually rolled her eyes and raised her eyebrows. "I even know the King."

Claire simply goggled at her.

"The King?" Before Claire could stop herself, she was bombarding her with questions. "Who's that? King Solomon? King Benjamin? King Noah? King George? King Kong?" Claire had forgotten to breathe in her rush of questions and inhaled so strongly, that she snorted.

"Elvis," Debby responded, gaping at Claire as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Oh," she muttered, feeling stupid. "So I guess he didn't go home," she joked to try and recover from her previous embarrassment,

"In a manner of speaking."

There was an awkward silence. At least awkward for her. She finally mustered enough courage to peek at Debby, who she expected to be glaring at her like she was an idiot. However, she was quite surprised to find that Debby was smiling at her again. A soft smile that was so warm, she had to fight the odd feeling that was overtaking her chest.

Whoever this woman was. She cared about her.

"You don't need to feel stupid, Claire," said Debby, reading her thoughts. "I've watched you all of your life. I've seen your worst moments, your best moments. And yes, even your stupidest moment." She took a step closer to Claire. "I know you."

"So why are you her?" Claire whispered. She was so touched by this girl. This young girl who seemed to know everything about her.

"You look like you could use some help." Debby suddenly stepped away. "That's why I'm here." She waved her hand gracefully out beside her, like a model at a boat show.

"How are you going to help me?" Claire suddenly felt like an ignorant child. Just waiting for someone to tell her what she had to do.

"Well, first off. I'm going to tell you there's a Heaven. There, we've got that out of the way." She pretended to dust off her hands as though she had completed a very taxing task. "Secondly, you need to stop looking at your family, and start looking at yourself."

"What does that mean? " asked Claire bewildered.

"Oh, come on girl, it's not that hard," Debby said despairingly. "Here, just try not to follow your family around like a lost puppy. Just for a few days. I think you'll figure it out. Think about yourself. Take some alone time. Perhaps then, it will come to you." She paused. "It's what I used to do when the kids picked on me in school."

"Why would the kids pick on you?" questioned Claire. At this, Debby sighed.

"Lets just say I wasn't a real looker."

It was now Claire's turn to laugh.

"But, you're so pretty! I don't think you're wearing makeup." She stared at Debby's body admiringly. "You're _perfect._"

"That didn't happen until _after _I died," Debby said this very quickly. She then beamed at Claire. "Besides, I thought you said that perfection doesn't exist?"

"It doesn't," Claire retorted. "At least, not in this life."

"Exactly!" She pointed at Claire like a teacher who had just had her question answered. "And anyway, those kids who picked on me happened in my other life. Sometimes you just need to forget about that kind of stuff. Sometimes, the only way to get on is to _let go._"

Claire thought about this for a moment. Debby was now walking around her again. She got the distinct impression that Debby was eyeing her up and down. Claire shifted from one foot to the other. Hoping that she was somehow passing this young girl's test. Suddenly, Debby stopped. She stared at Claire, and for a wild moment,Claire swore that there were tears in her eyes.

"You've become such a beautiful woman," Debby whispered.

Slowly, she turned to walk away. This time, Claire didn't try to stop her. She felt that if she did, she would taint those wonderful words that this mysterious lady had parted with her. The closeness that she felt was so thick, she was sure she would suffocate.

She watched Debby glide away. A man passed her on the street, and for a split second, Claire was sure she saw him check Debby out. She shook her head and looked again. The man was walking swiftly away, staring far ahead of him.

Debby really hadn't told Claire anything she didn't already know. But she had given her something that she hadn't felt in the longest time.

She had given her hope.

To be continued. . .

**A/N: Well, I think that's good enough for this chapter. I think I've given a little too much away. But, oh well. You deserve it. I'm sure I've lost about 85 of my original audience**, **So I hope all you new readers will like it. Please excuse my bad grammar and spelling. I'll go back and check it over tomorrow, but it's late and I really want to get to bed.**

**Peace out yall!**

**Oh, and for those of you who are wondering, I am a Democrat. But I love Republicans too. We all rock!**


	7. A Midnight Conversation

**Authors Note: Thank Ninja-Gnome for the update.**

**Chapter Seven.**

The days were getting easier. Not better, not any less lonely. But easier. Manageable. Now, Leon could simply stand to get through a day. That was a victory in of itself.

After Leon and Grace moved back into their apartment, Leon decided to tighten up security on the entire flat. There was no way that Grace was going to get any more scares. That also meant no more scarey stories, movies, or any of that bullshit. He wondered briefly what Grace would do if she ever found out about hist past. What she would do if she knew how her father and mother met. How sometimes at night, he still could still hear soft scratching at his window, echoing faintly in his room.

Later that night, Leon told Grace that she could sleep with him. He knew that Grace didn't want to be around her room anymore, and that last thought meant that perhaps he might have to find a new place to live.

As he lay in his warm bed, he had almost forgotten how nice it was to have another body in the same bed with him. After almost seven years of sharing a bed with Claire, it was a hard habit to break, and Leon was reminded of the comfort he had once had.

"Dad?" Grace's small voice said to his back after he was just about to drift off to sleep.

"What, Grace? Are you still scared?" he had mumbled into his pillow.

"Do you still think about mom?"

The question, to him, seem ludicrous. When did he not think about Claire? Was there a moment in the day where he would see something exciting, hear something funny, and make a mental note to tell Claire about it, only to remember that she wasn't around anymore? When things like that happened, Leon couldn't help but slowly feel the depression sink slowly into his skin.

"Yeah, baby, I do," he said rolling over to face his daughter.

"Then how come you never talk about her?" She sounded so sad. Too sad for a carefree little girl.

"I – I'm not. . ." He wasn't really sure what to say. How do you explain deep emotions like this to a child?

_Fuck off, Kennedy. It's not like she doesn't know loss._

"I guess it just hurts," he finally managed weakly. He knew it was a shitty answer, but he honestly did not know how to address Grace's question.

Grace, however, seem to stare thoughtfully at him. The look she gave him made him uneasy. Kids who were almost past their fifth birthday weren't supposed to look like that, like they knew more than adults. The idea quickly came to Leon as he realized that his daughter would probably be way more mature than most kids. That thought made him both proud and sad. Mature kids don't make lots of friends.

But still, she was staring at him, and Leon was starting to become uneasy.

"Sometimes. . .it's like. . .mom's here," she said softly. Leon raised his eyebrows.

"What do you mean?" Grace shrugged at his question.

"I don't know. . .I just feel like mom's here. It's like she never left. It's like. . ." she paused, " it's like it was _before._"

Leon thought about that time in the living room, when he stared at their wedding pictures, and for a small moment, he was almost positive that Claire was in the same room with him.

"I know what you mean, baby. I feel it, too."

Suddenly, Grace lifted her head off her pillow. Surprise and excitement washed over her beautiful features, and for a moment, her eyes sparkled with hope that Leon hadn't seen in months.

"You hear her, too?" she whispered excitedly. _What the hell?_ Leon shook his head as if to clean out his ears.

"What?" he asked, confused. Grace rolled over on her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows.

"You can hear her?" Grace repeated as if _he_ were the child. Then it hit him. She was messing with him. Oh, she was so much like her mother, but right now, he really didn't want to hear it.

"What? Grace – no – come on," he said flatly and rolled onto his back. It was silent for a moment, and then she spoke again, only this time she sounded indignant.

"I'm not lying!" There, _now_ she sounded like a little kid. "I've heard her speak. I've heard her footsteps!"

With that, Leon pressed his mouth into a fine line and ran his hands over his face. What if she wasn't making it up? Not that she actually heard her mother. . .but what if she _thought_ she had? She had lost her mom, maybe she was taking it harder than he had realized. He was sure that she probably wouldn't remember much about Claire because Grace was so young when she died. What if he was wrong?

"Sammy from across the hall called me a liar because I said I saw Mrs. Jones in the hall," Grace rattled on, "He said that she got taken to a place where they take care of fogies, but I saw her! I'm not lying! I'm not! I swear I saw her! And I hear mom sometimes!"

"Okay!" Leon rolled back toward his daughter and grabbed her hands. "Okay," he said, and she relaxed. "You're not lying."

"That's right," Grace replied as if to tell him to never doubt her again.

The two were quiet for quite some time. For a moment, he wondered if Grace had fallen back asleep, but then he looked over, and saw in the darkness that she was playing with her fingers as she pretended that they were little people. He smiled, and wondered if Claire had done that when she was a girl. Pain filled his heart as he knew he would never get a chance to ask her.

He missed her. He missed her so much. He missed her face. . .he missed her smile. He missed her temper. . .the way she scrunched her nose when she got angry. And he wasn't going to lie. . . he missed her body. But he mostly missed her. Her sense of humor, her witty comments as she made fun of terrible movies. He missed how cocky she could be in sports, but how shy she was when he told her loved her. He missed watching her play with Grace. He even missed her fucking snoring. But she was gone. . .and she was never coming back. It was an ache, and he now knew it would never go away.

Maybe. . .if he could just pretend. . .

"Grace?" he asked.

"Yeah?" she mumbled. He could tell she was still pissed off at him for doubting her earlier.

"When – when you hear mom, what does she say?"

"We don't really talk." At her words, Leon's heart fell. He was hoping that she'd have a better imagination than _that_. "I mostly hear her voice and certain words."

A pause.

"Like what?"

"Well, one time I was in my room wearing my pinky dress," Leon smiled, it was Grace's breakfast dress that Claire made her wear when they went out to breakfast with Jill and Chris. The dress was actually a bright, sunny yellow, but Grace called it her pinky dress. He wasn't really sure why, but he was sure that Claire knew. "I was standing in the mirror looking at myself, and I heard mom say: 'So pretty' but there was no one in the room."

_Hmm, that was more like it._

"What else does she say?" he questioned.

"She calls you 'baby' a lot." Grace turned her head to look at her father. "Like, that time you fell asleep on the couch. You were. . .tossing and turning in your sleep, and suddenly I heard mom's voice. She said: 'baby' and then you stopped like you heard her, too."

Leon gazed at his daughter. He couldn't help the feeling like Grace wasn't pretending anymore. Various times. . .more than he liked to remember. . .he would have dreams about that night in Raccoon. Dreams about rotting flesh and splattered blood. Dreams that made him sweat through his shirt and wake up moaning. And always – always – he would feel Claire's hand on his back, rubbing softly, and she'd whisper: _"Baby, it's okay. It was just a dream, baby."_

Just then, Leon's eyes began to sting and he closed them tightly. He didn't want to play this game anymore. Turning over, he brushed the hair away from Grace's forehead.

"You," he smiled, "need to go to sleep."

"'kay," she snuggled further down into the sheets and closed her eyes. "But I do hear mom."

_Then I envy you, kid._

Leon closed his eyes and tried not to think about Claire for the rest of the night. Licking his dry lips, he knew he was in for another long night. And just before he drifted off to sleep, he heard Grace mumble:

"And_ I saw _Mrs. Jones."

_**I I I**_

There was another reason Leon didn't like to think about Claire. His thoughts would suddenly turn into something different. His mind would wonder from thinking about the funny things she had said during the day to the dirty things that she would whisper in his ear at night. Most recently, he couldn't stop thinking about her tongue . . . the things she had done with it had been enough to send him over the edge. Now, he could only imagine, which lead him to want to smack his head against a wall.

The other day he had seen a woman who looked remarkably like Claire eating an ice-cream cone with her boyfriend. He had watched her lips taste the ice-cream when, without warning, his belly had tightened and memories of the wild nights he had spent with his wife flashed before his eyes. The girl had noticed that he was staring at her, which earned him a hateful glare from her boyfriend. Before, those thoughts of Claire would have excited him, now, they made him feel like a pervert.

Of course, with Claire gone, he had to resort to his old high school tactics of releasing his frustration. Alone. After he would sit in bed and wonder how he had gotten by with only him and his hand when he was a teenager. Claire had spoiled him. It wasn't like they always had mind-blowing sex (although many times it was mind-blowing), or even good sex. But it was the comfort, the sharing of each other's skin that sometimes got Leon through the day.

Years and years of repressed sexual frustration and caused him to often act like an animal when they were together. But Claire's death had put a stop to that. Now it was just him. . .and his hand.

_But it's not enough. No one will ever be enough._

_**I I I**_

Claire found it extremely odd that she could still have almost all of her emotions: Fear, love, anger, hate, happiness, confusion, sorrow, pride, and many, many more. Only two things had disappeared: Her love of food, and her love of sex.

_I don't care about sex? Shit, I am in hell._

Well, at least she still had a sense of humor.

Yes, she wasn't stupid. She would often watch Leon as he slept, wondering if he was dreaming about her. And on many occasions, which recently were increasing more and more, she had caught him. . .doing things to himself. The action that had once aroused her now felt – embarrassing, like she was a little kid again, watching something dirty on TV. Every time he would mumble her name, which should've made her feel happy, but instead made her feel depressed. She knew how difficult her absence was on him. Not just emotionally, but physically as well.

She used to joke – but it wasn't really a joke – that if she ever died, and he remarried, she come back from the grave and haunt him, and then swore that when they met again in the after life, she'd kill him again.

But now, watching him, seeing how lonely he was, how he ached for a companion, and yearned for some physical contact, she'd changed her mind. After her death, he had had to quit sex cold turkey. He was faithful, and she knew that he would wait as long as he could, but he needed a wife. Someone to take care of him, to be there for him, to please him. And if it couldn't be her anymore, then so be it.

Because even though she was a jealous woman, she loved him. She wanted him to be happy, and she really, really loved him.

Now, she stood there, right next to him, and watch him talk to one of the tenants of their building as he held Grace's hand to keep her from running off.

"How's the job search, Kennedy?" said Ron Johnson. A short, but attractive older man who people often called Don Johnson.

"Eh," Leon shrugged. "Could be better."

"You're a cop, right?" asked Ron.

"Ex-cop," Leon corrected.

"So, are you lookin' for something to get your heart rate up? Something as exciting?" Ron leaned against the building and folded his arms across his chest.

"No, not really," Leon admitted. "I'm all Grace has now, and I need to take care of myself. If something were to happen to me, she'd be an orph. . .um, well, I'm NOT leaving her with my parents, anyway."

"Ya know, I have a friend who works for the government, I could look into some job openings for you. I think there's some secret service openings available."

Leon's eyes widened. "Working for the government? No thanks. I need to be a father, not a hero."

At that Ron threw his head back, but he didn't laugh. Grace was tugging his arm as if she wanted to run away from their boring conversation.

"Well, it's not as hard as most people think it is. For one, you don't always have to look out for the powerful assholes. I mean, those guys have service agents for their families. Even their damn dogs get secret service agents. There's a good chance that you'd pretty much get paid to sit around, and feed some guys cat all day. Make sure that no one kidnaps it."

"That sounds too good to be true. And. . I'm pretty sure you're full of shit." Leon suddenly snapped his mouth shut as he remembered that Grace was standing right next to him.

"No! Look, you'll have intense training at the O.R.E. but after that, unless you get assigned to the fucking President – oops sorry, Grace – you're pretty much safe."

Claire could tell that Leon was contemplating it now. A cushy, powerful job. She knew that Leon was worried about money. Right now he was living off of their savings, but that wasn't going to last forever.

"Yeah, okay. I'll check it out. But I'm not making any promises," Leon told Ron.

"A guy like you couldn't find a better suited job. Leon, do you really want to end up working as an orderly at a nursing home? Taking care of old people like Mrs. Jones?" Ron scratched his beard and looked pointedly at Leon.

"Yeah, but Mrs. Jones is back, so –" Leon was cut off by Ron's laughing.

"Nah, she died," Ron said as he stared at Leon.

"Really? So she died at here?"

"No! She died in the nursing home, in her own filth. You're telling me you want to do that for a living?" Ron then moved forward as if to walk Leon inside the building.

"Wait, Grace said she saw Mrs. Jones in the building, but after she had been taken to the nursing home," Leon said as he walked with Ron up the stairs to the next floor.

"Look," Ron stopped walking, "most people don't go to a nursing home, and come back to their real home. They go to a nursing home because they can't take care of themselves anymore. They're pretty much their to be babysat until they die. Mrs. Jones apartment doesn't even belong to her anymore, it belongs to some college kid, who I swear is selling weed."

"But Grace – "

"Unless Grace saw a ghost, she was mistaken – or lying."

"Grace isn't a liar. . .she practically kept me awake trying to convince me that she wasn't lying," Leon retorted defensively.

"Well, then she was probably mistaken," Ron concluded. "Or maybe this apartment building is haunted." At that last comment, Ron laughed and walked the rest of the way up the stares alone.

"That guy is weird," he heard Grace say as they stood in the main entrance of their building.

But Leon wasn't listen, and Claire watched him. Thinking, thinking. Putting things together. Wondering.

Thinking.

_**To be Continued within the next five years. . . Hopefully sooner than that.**_


End file.
